IIP 


•Hi 


TANGLE 


(^CAPTAIN 
CHARLES  KING 
U-  S- A- 


A  Garrison  Tangle 


BY 

CAPTAIN  CHARLES  KING,  U.  S.  A. 


AUTHOR    OK 

"  Fort  Frayne, "     "An  Army  Wife,"     "  Warrior 

Gap,"    "Noble  Blood  and  a  West  Point 

Parallel,"  "  Trumpeter  Fred, "  "Found 

in  the  Philippines,"     "  A  Wounded 

Name,"   «tc.,    etc. 


THE  HOBART  COMPANY, 

New  York  City. 


Copyrighted  1896,  b^» 
F.  Tennyson  Neely. 

Copyrighted  IQOI,  by 
The  Hobart  Compaay 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

CAPTAIN  TURNER  had  been  up  since  first  call  for 
reveille,  had  spent  a  shivering  hour  at  his  troop 
stables,  had  tramped  through  the  snow  from  the 
creek  valley,  up  past  the  long  line  of  ramshackle 
sheds  that  defaced  the  east  front  of  the  original 
Fort  Russell,  had  declined  the  invitation  of  some  of 
the  old  stagers  and  young  plungers  of  his  regiment 
to  "  come  in  and  have  something  "  at  the  trader's 
store  by  the  gate,  had  plodded  thoughtfully  on  to 
his  own  quarters  some  distance  up  the  row,  had  had 
his  bath  and  changed  his  stable  garb  for  the  best 
undress  uniform  he  owned,  and  was  now  waiting 
somewhat  impatiently  for  breakfast.  The  Cheyenne 
Leader  had  little  in  the  way  of  telegraphic  news, 
and  its  local  gossip  failed  to  interest  him.  He 
tossed  it  aside  and,  after  a  look  into  the  little  dining- 
room  where  the  breakfast  table  was  set  for  two, 
began  pacing  slowly  up  and  down  the  tiny  parlor,  five 
paces  one  way  and  five  back.  Occasionally  be 


2136S74 


2  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

would  cast  a  glance  upward  and  listen  for  sounds  of 
movement  aloft,  but  none  rewarded  his  attention. 
Presently  he  went  to  the  window  and,  throwing 
aside  the  curtains,  gazed  gloomily  out  upon  the 
snow-covered  parade.  Over  across  the  barren, 
wind-swept  level,  bordered  by  its  row  of  leafless, 
desolate,  stripling  cottonwoods.  quivering  in  the 
rising  breeze,  the  unsightly  brown  barracks  were 
echeloned,  their  gable  ends  to  the  north  and  south, 
with  the  wooden  tower,  the  official  home  of  the 
officer  of  the  guard,  and  behind  it  the  dun-colored 
walls  of  the  guardhouse,  filling  the  gap  at  the  op- 
posite angle  of  the  diamond-shaped  quadrilateral. 
Here  and  there  along  the  parade  lay  bare,  unsightly 
patches  of  dead  gray  buffalo  grass,  where  the 
wintry  gales  had  swept  away  the  falling  snow,  only 
to  whirl  it  into  deep  drifts  about  the  barracks. 
Beyond  the  rough  wooden  one-story  buildings  that 
framed  the  roadway  bounding  the  parade,  the 
snowy  slopes  dipped  out  of  sight  into  the  valley  of 
the  Crow,  only  to  reappear  half  a  mile  beyond,  de- 
faced with  the  same  broad  gray  patches  and 
streaked  with  jagged  lines  of  fleecy  white  where 
the  snow  lay  fathoms  deep  in  the  ravines  and 
coulees.  Beyond  them  all,  a  hundred  miles  to  the 
south,  cold,  remote  and  majestic,  towered  the  peaks 
and  domes  of  the  Kockies,  dazzling  when  the  morn- 


A.  t*~*RISON  T ANGLE.  3 

ing  sun  shone,  but  repellent  and  frowning  now  that 
his  face  was  hid  behind  a  dense  veil  of  cloud  that 
was  drawn  athwart  the  heavens.  The  scene  was 
dreary  in  the  last  degree.  Only  about  the  guard- 
house was  there  sign  of  life  and  action,  for  in  the 
intense  cold  the  troopers  hugged  the  comfort  of 
their  barracks  and  huddled  about  the  red-hot  stoves. 
The  captain's  face,  somber  and  melancholy,  yet  a 
refined,  clear  cut,  handsome  face  withal,  seemed  to 
take  on  an  additional  shade  of  gloom  as  he  stood 
there,  lonely  and  silent,  drumming  on  the  window 
panes  with  his  finger  tips.  Through  the  thin 
partition  in  the  party  wall  of  wood,  that  sepa- 
rated his  soldier  home  from  that  of  Captain  Wayne 
next  door,  came  the  sound  of  cheery  voices,  of 
joyous  laughter  and  childish  glee.  Turner  sighed 
heavily  as  he  took  out  his  watch,  glanced  at  it  and 
turned  impatiently.  Even  as  he  left  the  window  a 
trumpeter,  muffled  in  heavy  overcoat,  came  briskly 
out  from  the  adjutant's  office  and  sounded  first 
call  for  guard  mounting,  whereat  the  captain  strode 
through  the  dining-room  and  poked  his  head  into 
the  kitchen  beyond. 

"  Nora,"  he  said,  "  be  so  kind  as  to  run  up  and 
tell  Mrs.  Turner  not  to  hurry  if  she's  tired,  but  that 
I'm  on  a  garrison  court  this  morning  and  must  have 
my  breakfast  at  once." 


4  A  GARRISON  T ANGLE. 

Wiping  her  hands  on  her  apron,  the  Irish  inaid- 
of-all-work  proceeded  on  her  mission.  She  was 
back  in  a  moment.  "  The  missus  says  not  to  wait. 
She'll  be  down  directly,"  was  her  report. 

"  Yery  well.  Bring  me  whatever  is  ready,"  said 
Turner,  briefly,  and  sat  him  down  at  the  table. 

There  had  been  a  lively  hop  the  night  before  and 
joy  was  uncon fined.  A  dozen  pleasant  people  had 
driven  out  from  Cheyenne.  The  music  was  capital. 
Half  a  dozen  young  officers  from  other  posts  were 
visiting  at  Russell.  Half  a  dozen  young  ladies  from 
the  distant  East  were  visiting  relatives  and  friends 
among  the  officers'  families  in  the  garrison.  Many 
of  the  ladies  of  the  — th  Cavalry  were  charming 
"  society  "  women ;  many  were  pretty  and  attract- 
ive ;  several  were  wealthy  and  able  to  display  stun- 
ning toilets,  and  nearly  all  were  graceful  and  ac- 
complished dancers.  As  a  consequence,  anywhere 
from  thirty  to  forty  couples  were  to  be  seen  on  the 
polished  floor  of  the  hop-room,  and  visiting  officers 
from  other  regiments  promptly  owned  that  when  it 
came  to  "  hopping "  the  — th  could  put  up  the 
prettiest  dance  in  the  army. 

And  hops  were  things  Mrs.  Turner  dearly  loved. 
Ten  years  the  junior  of  her  solemn-looking  spouse, 
she  had  married  when  only  eighteen,  had  never 
borne  him  son  or  daughter,  had  been  with  the  reg- 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  5 

iraent  in  the  South  just  after  the  great  war,  in 
Nebraska  when  they  were  guarding  the  track-layers 
of  the  Union  Pacific,  in  Arizona  during  that  four 
years  exile,  in  Kansas  on  their  return,  and  was  now 
facing,  with  the  sisterhood,  the  skin-scorching  Wyo- 
ming blizzards,  and  bemoaning  when  alone  witli  her 
lord  the  horrid  effect  of  the  dazzling  suns  and  blast- 
ing gales  upon  her  once  peachlike  complexion. 
Among  her  garrison  and  Cheyenne  intimates  and 
acquaintances,  however,  Fanny  Turner  had  no  such 
admission  to  make.  She  could  not  help  seeing,  she 
said,  the  havoc  played  with  the  cuticle  of  the  other 
ladies.  Even  their  bride,  the  lovely  blonde,  Mrs. 
Bill}'-  Kay,  had  completely  lost,  said  Mrs.  Turner, 
the  delicate  bloom  and  softness  of  her  fair  white 
skin.  "  But  as  for  me,"  she  continued,"  I  declare  it 
seems  to  make  no  difference  whatever." 

Certainly,  under  the  light  of  the  lamps  and  candles 
of  the  hop-room,  her  complexion  seemed  as  peachy 
as  on  her  wedding  day  thirteen  years  gone  by.  But 
there  were  a  dozen  women  in  garrison  who  were 
ready  to  explain  and  account  for  that.  "  No  one  in 
this  regiment,"  said  the  colonel's  wife,  "  can  ap- 
proach Fanny  Turner  in  the  art  of  '  making  up.' 
She's  thirty-two  if  she's  a  week  old,  and  she  dances 
and  dresses  and — decorates — as  though  she  were  not 
twenty." 


6  A  QAHRIxON  TANGLE. 

All  of  which  was  practically  true.  Spoiled  and 
petted  by  an  over-indulgent  mother  in  her  girlhood, 
Fanny  had  no  idea  of  any  will  or  way  but  her  own 
when  she  married  Captain  Turner.  He  had  fallen 
deeply  in  love  with  her  when  home  wounded  after 
Cedar  Creek  in  the  fall  of  '64.  He  was  the  hero  of 
their  semi-rural  community,  and  she  married  him  be- 
cause he  was  so  much  thought  of  and  admired  bysome 
of  the  others.  For  several  weeks  Turner  thought 
himself  the  happiest  and  luckiest  of  men  to  have 
captured  this  fair  young  beauty,  and  then  disillusion 
set  in  and  one  disappointment  followed  another. 
She  was  empty-headed,  frivolous,  fond  of  every  kind 
of  social  gayety,  but  with  neither  heart  nor  hand 
for  domestic  duty  of  any  kind.  She  loved  to  dance, 
and  his  wounds  had  put  an  end  to  even  the  little  he 
ever  knew  of  that  art.  She  gloried  in  the  atten- 
tions of  the  society  and  garrison  beaux  they  met, 
and  plainly  showed  him  he  was  often  in  the  way. 
She  was  recklessly  extravagant  in  her  tastes  and 
spent  his  savings  with  a  lavish  hand,  principally 
on  herself  in  dress  or  jewelry.  She  had  been 
denied  almost  everything  of  the  kind  at  home,  for 
her  parents  had  been  for  years  in  straightened  cir- 
cumstances. Turner,  deeply  in  love,  could  deny  her 
nothing  until  his  savings  were  exhausted,  and  they 
had  to  come  down  to  his  pay  She  read  nothing 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  7 

but  novels.  She  knew  nothing  but  garrison  gossip 
and  ho\v  to  make  herself  look  fascinating.  She  had 
a  fund  of  small  talk,  and  a  faculty  of  setting  her 
cap  for  each  new  young  officer  that  joined  the  regi- 
ment, speedily  fascinating  him  and  attaching  him 
for  a  term  of  months,  or  possibly  a  year,  to  her 
apron  strings.  She  was  artless,  kittenish,  confid- 
ingly, trustingly  youthful — this  mature  dame  of 
thirty-one — when  out  in  society  or  among  her  sisters 
of  the  garrison  ;  but  it  was  anything  but  a  fresh, 
youthful,  radiant  girl  that  came  yawning  languidly 
down  the  stairs  this  dark  March  morning,  and  with  a 
"  Why  didn't  you  order  your  breakfast  earlier  if  you 
wanted  it?"  and  barely  a  glance  at  her  spouse, 
passed  him  by  without  other  salutation,  and  took 
her  seat  behind  the  coffee-pot  at  the  head  of  the 
table. 

"  I  much  preferred  to  wait  for  you,"  said  Turner 
gently.  He  had  never  rebuked,  and  rarely  attempted 
to  correct  her,  since  the  initial  attempt  that  well 
nigh  wrecked  their  honeymoon.  He  could  not  scold 
her  now,  yet  his  heart  ached  at  her  indifference, 
and  his  weary  eyes  did  not  fail  to  notice  the  mar- 
velous  change  in  her  appearance  since  she  left  the 
hop-room  the  night  before,  or  rather  at  two  o'clock 
that  morning.  The  soft  pink  lips  were  dry  and 
purple  now,  the  delicately  tinted  cheek  was  sallow 


8  A  GARRISON'  TANGLE. 

and  colorless  ,  dark  purple  circles  bad  formed  under 
her  eyes;  deep  lines  cracked  out  through  their  tem- 
porary filling  and  gave  the  lie  to  her  pretentions  to 
youth.  Her  hair,  so  beautifully  and  becomingly  ar- 
ranged the  night  before,  was  simply  twisted  up  into 
a  knot  at  the  back  of  her  head.  She  wore  a  loose 
flowered  wrapper,  gathered  in  at  the  slender  waist 
with  a  cord.  Even  her  white,  fragile  hands,  that 
trembled  as  she  filled  the  captain's  cup  with  coffee, 
looked  wrinkled  and  old,  while  upon  her  visage,  so 
radiant  with  smiles  and  sunshine  a  few  hours  since, 
there  sat  an  expression  of  profound  and  envious  dis- 
content. Turner  had  hard  work  to  repress  a  second 
sigh  as  he  glanced  furtively  at  her  from  over  the 
Leader,  which  he  had  picked  up  again  when  her 
footsteps  were  heard  descending  the  stairs. 

"  May  I  help  you  to,  steak  ?"  he  asked,  in  cour- 
teous tone.  "  I  fear  you  are  very  tired  this  morning, 
Fanny.  You  had  a  grand  time  last  night  though. 
You  never  missed  a  dance,  did  you  ?" 

"  I  ?  Why  how  odd  that  would  be  !  I  never  do 
miss  a  dance.  That's  one  of  the  advantages  of 
having  so  many  old  friends  among  the  young 
officers." 

"  But  you  must  be  hungry,  dear.  Won't  you  try 
to  eat  something  ?" 

"  What  is  there  ?"  she  asked  languidly.     "  Steak, 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  9 

stewed  potatoes.  Bah!  Scrambled  eggs — cold; 
rolls  ditto.  I  wish  those  children  next  door  wouldn't 
make  such  a  noise.  Captain  Turner,"  she  went  on, 
toying  with  her  coffee  spoon,  "did  you  see  that 
gown  of  Mrs.  Gregg's  last  night?  It  was  one  she 
had  made  in  Chicago — three  hundred  dollars  if  it 
cost  a  cent.  Now  you  know  perfectly  well  she 
can't  afford  that  since  the  failure  of  their  bank." 

Turner  was  studying  the  advertisements  hard,  and 
made  no  answer. 

"  And  his  pay  isn't  as  big  as  yours  by  one  fogy," 
she  went  on.  Then  as  he  was  still  silent  she  queried, 
"7«iU" 

"Oh!  ah!    Is  it  what?" 

"  I  wish  you  would  listen  to  me  instead  of  losing 
yourself  in  that  stupid  paper,  Captain  Turner.  I 
asked  whether  Captain  Gregg's  pay  was  not  less 
than  yours  by  a  fogy  or  so." 

"Very  probably.  He  entered  service  some 
years  after  I  did,  and  is  nearly  fifteen  years 
younger." 

But  Turner  talks  from  behind  his  paper.  He 
has  finished  his  breakfast,  all  but  the  cup  of  steam- 
ing coffee  with  which  she  has  at  last  supplied  him. 

"What  did  you  think  of  that  gown  of  Mrs. 
Gregg's  ?  She  had  it  made  only  two  months  ago— 
two  months  after  their  bank  broke.  Seems  to  me 


10  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

mighty  queer  she  should  be  '  swelling '  in  such  ex- 
travagant style — Mrs.  Raymond  thinks  so  too." 

Turner's  eyes  are  glued  to  the  columns  of  the 
Leader.  He  is  apparently  deaf  to  any  comments 
on  Mrs.  Gregg's  costume. 

"Don't  you  think  so?"  persists  Mrs.  Turner, 
determined  to  extract  an  opinion  from  her  liege. 

"Why — I'm  sure  I  haven't  given  the  matter  any 
thought.  It's  none  of  our  affair,  you  know.  Doubt- 
less they  have  means  that  were  not  involved  in  the 
crash  of  that  particular  bank." 

"  They  haven't,"  interposes  Mrs.  Turner.  "  Mrs. 
"Wallace  is  from  Cleveland  and  knows  all  Mrs. 
Gregg's  people,  and  she  says  they  lost  every 
penny."  -\ 

"  Oh,  well,  Gregg  has  something  outside  his  pay," 
says  Turner,  shrugging  his  shoulders  and  sinking 
down  into  his  chair.  He  hates  these  perennial  com- 
ments and  criticisms  on  the  affairs  of  his  brother 
officers  and  their  families,  but  he  still  loves  his  shal* 
lowpate  of  a  wife  and  can't  bear  to  rebuke  her. 
This,  too,  is  her  table-talk.  She  has  no  other. 

"  There  were  at  least  half  a  dozen  bills  came  in 
their  mail  two  days  ago,"  persists  madame  presently. 
K I  couldn't  help  seeing  them  when  the  orderly  came 
here  with  my  letter  from  Kate.  If  /had  so  many 
bills  coming  in  you'd  be  frantic.  I  don't  see  hovt 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  11 

she  can   stand   being   dunned   in   that  way.     / 
couldn't." 

Again  the  captain  seeks  shelter  behind  his  con- 
ventional bomb-proof — the  paper — and  strives  to 
avoid  the  discussion. 

"  Could  you  ?"  she  asks. 

"  Well,"  he  answers  slowly,  "  I've  had  to  once  or 
twice.  Don't  you  remember  ?" 

"  I  might  have  known  you'd  remind  me  of  that," 
she  answers,  with  tears  in  her  voice  if  not  in  her 
eyes.  "  I  was  much — less  experienced  then."  Even 
to  her  liege  lord  Mrs.  Turner  does  not  like  to  own 
she  has  ever  been  younger. 

He  notes  the  symptoms  of  approaching  storm, 
and  to  give  a  cheerier  tone  to  the  talk,  drops  the 
Leader  and  adopts  a  "  chipper,"  spirited  style. 

"I  thought  you  looked  uncommonly  well  last 
night,  Fanny,  and  I  thought  Mrs.  Ray's  dress  ex- 
tremely pretty."  • 

"  Pretty  I"  says  madame  disdainfully.  "  Why, 
Captain  Turner,  she  was  positively  dowdy.  The 
idea  of  a  woman  of  her  wealth  and  social  position 
coming  to  one  of  our  swellest  hops  in  a  simple 
China  silk  is  almost  an  affront  to  the  regiment.  If 
she  had  nothing  handsomer  it  would  be  all  well  and 
good,  but  she  has  loads  of  handsome  gowns  and 
won't  wear  them." 


12  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

"China  silk  or  Canton  flannel,  you  know,  I 
couldn't  tell  t'other  from  which,"  says  poor  Turner 
"  I  only  say  I  thought  it  pretty  and  appropriate. 
Perhaps  she  wears  a  simple  toilet  because  so  many 
of  the  ladies  of  the  regiment  cannot  afford  to  dress 
expensively." 

"Captain  Turner,  you  make  mo  tired !"  exclaims 
his  better  half,  in  deep  displeasure.  "  No  one  wants 
Mrs.  Eay  to  be  setting  examples  in  economy.  The 
ladies  of  the  — th  are  quite  capable  of  manag- 
ing their  own  affairs — except  perhaps  Mrs.  Gregg." 

Are  the}r,  thinks  poor  Turner,  as  he  mentally  runs 
over  the  list  of  bills  accumulated  in  his  desk,  the 
result  of  madame's  orders  and  extravagances,  but 
again  he  relapses  into  silence  and  seeks  refuge  be- 
hind the  Leader.  Then  relief  and  rescue  come  in 
sudden  shape.  The  boards  of  the  piazza  creak  and 
snap  in  the  biting  cold  under  a  quick,  bounding 
footstep.  The  gong  bell  on  the  hall  door  gives  a 
loud,  impatient  clang,  and  Nora  hastens  through 
into  the  hall. 

"The  orderly  with  the  colonel's  compliments,  I 
suppose,"  says  Mrs.  Turner  dejectedly.  "  They  never 
will  let  you  finish  your  breakfast  in  peace." 

"  They  might,"  thinks  Turner,  "  if  I  could  only 
get  started  a  little  earlier."  Then  back  comes  Nora. 

"It's  Loot'n't  Maynard  wants  to  see  you,  sir." 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  13 

"Oh !  Show  him  into  the  parlor,"  answers  the 
captain,  dropping  the  Leadw  and  beginning  to 
fold  his  napkin. 

"Captain  Turner,  have  you  no  consideration 
whatever  for  me?"  gasps  his  lady,  as  she  rises  and 
betakes  herself  hurriedly  to  the  kitchen. 

A  very  presentable  specimen  of  the  young  officer 
type  is  the  junior  lieutenant  who,  forage  cap  in 
hand  and  his  cavalry  circular,  the  cape  of  his  over- 
coat, thrown  over  his  arm,  stands  respectfully  in 
the  little  army  parlor  as  the  captain  enters  and  ex- 
tends a  cordial  hand. 

"Good-morning,  Maynard.  Glad  to  see  you. 
What  brings  you  over  here  so  early?  Nothing 
amiss,  I  hope." 

"  I — didn't  mean — I  hope  I  didn't  disturb  your 
breakfast,  sir,"  answers  the  subaltern,  a  shade  of 
embarrassment  on  his  fine,  frank  face.  "  Mrs. 
Turner  was  so  good  as  to  say  if  I  would  come 
around  this  morning,  er —  she'd  teach  me  some  new 
methods  at  Patience,  and  the  adjutant  has  just  de- 
tailed me  to  take  a  patrol  to  go  to  town  after  some 
absentees  still  on  payday  spree.  If  you'll  be  kind 
enough  to  tell  her — I  suppose  she's  not  yet  down 
after  dancing  every  dance  until  two  this  morn- 
ing " 

"I'll  tell  her,"  says    Turner.    "She'll   be  disap- 


14  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

pointed,  of  course,  but  come  again  some  other  time. 
Any  news  at  the  office  ?" 

"  Why,  yes,  sir.  There's  quite  a  little  stir  there. 
It  seems  a  gang  of  the  Southern  Cheyennes  have 
had  a  row  with  their  agent  and  have  been  playing 
the  mischief  about  their  reservation.  The  agent 
has  wired  for  troops,  and  if  they're  sent  from 
Leavenworth  and  Gibson  they  say  the  Indians  will 
jump.  Spring  has  set  in  down  there.  The  chief 
believes  that  in  that  event  we'll  be  called  upon  to 
head  them  off." 

"  May  the  Lord  deliver  us  from  a  winter  cam- 
paign," says  Turner  anxioasly.  "  "Well,  I'll  tell  Mrs. 
Turner.  Wish  you  good  luck  in  catching  the  run- 
aways. How  many  are  still  out?" 

"Eight, sir;  so  I'm  told  at  the  office.  Then  I'll 
say  good  morning,"  and  Mr.  Maynard  starts  to  go. 

But  a  soft,  silvery  voice,  a  voice  utterly  unlike 
the  petulant  tones  so  recently  heard  at  the  break- 
fast table,  comes  from  behind  the  portiere  that 
hangs  from  the  archway  between  the  parlor  and 
dining-room,  and  halts  him  at  the  threshold. 

"Don't  look  back,  Mr.  Maynard;  I'm  simply  a 
fright  this  morning,  but  I  couldn't  help  speaking  to 
you.  I'm  so  sorry  you  can't  be  here  at  eleven. 
Oome  this  afternoon,  if  you  get  back  in  time,  won't 
you  ?  Oome  at  threa  That'll  give  you  an  hoar 
before  stables. , 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  15 

Maynard  hesitates.  "  I'd  like  to,  awfully,  Mrs. 
Turner,"  he  says,  "  but  I — I've  got  an  engagement 
at  that  hour." 

"  Ah,  yes,"  answers  Mrs.  Turner.  "  No  need  to 
say  where.  I  know  who's  expecting  you  at  the 
Barrys'.  I'm  positively  getting  jealous,  Mr.  May- 
nard." 

The  young  fellow's  cheeks  are  burning  with  a 
flush  that  is  not  caused  by  the  buffetings  of  the 
Wyoming  winds.  "  I'll  be  glad  to  come  almost  any 
other  time  you  say,  Mrs.  Turner.  I'm  sure  it's 
very  good  of  you — but,  pardon  me,  won't  you,  the 
patrol  is  saddling  at  the  stable  and  I  must  hurry 
down  there." 

She  has  no  time  to  fire  another  shot  before  he  is 
out  of  the  house  and  slamming  the  storm  door  be- 
hind him.  Then  she  comes  into  the  parlor  and 
peers  out  of  the  window  as  though  to  see  whether 
he  goes  at  once  to  stables,  or  stops,  as  she  more  than 
half  believes  he  will,  at  the  Barrys'.  The  captain 
is  pulling  on  his  "  Arctics"  in  the  hallway  and  pres- 
ently appears  at  the  door,  looping  the  frogs  of  his 
heavy,  fur-lined  coat — a  coat  that  had  once  been  a 
handsome  garment,  but  is  old  and  worn  and  shabby 
now. 

"  I  think  Mrs.  Barry  ought  to  put  a  stop  to  that 
affair  before  it  goes  any  further,"  gays  Mrs.  Turner, 


15  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

whereat  the  captain  becomes  sphinxlike  and  in- 
scrutable. Apparently  he  hasn't  heard.  "Neither 
of  them  has  a  cent  in  the  world  except  his  second 
lieutenant's  pay,"  she  goes  on,  and  Turner  finds 
himself  rummaging  through  his  pockets  as  though 
in  search  of  some  much-needed  article,  for  he  still 
has  nothing  to  say.  Then  she  turns  and  faces  him. 
;<  Don't  you  ?"  she  asks. 

"Don't  I  what?"  he  replies,  in  simulated  igno- 
rance. He  is  fencing  for  time." 

"Now,  Captain  Turner,  I  know  you  heard  what 
I  asked.  You  always  behave  in  this  absurd  way 
when  what  I  am  thinking  and  talking  about  doesn't 
happen  to  suit  you.  I  said  neither  Mr.  Maynard 
nor  Miss  Baird  had  a  cent,  and  that  Mrs.  Barry 
ought  to  put  a  stop  to  their  flirtation  at  once — and 
you  heard  it." 

"  I  think  it  is  none  of  •  our  business,  Fanny,"  say* 
Turner  mildly.  "  Just  as  I  said  about  Mrs.  Gregg's 
gown.  I  can't  help  wishing  you  concerned  yourself 
less  about  other  people's  affairs,  my  dear  little 
woman,"  he  adds,  after  a  pause.  "  You — you 
haven't  said  anything  to  anybody  but  me  as  to  the 
letters  that  came  for  Mrs.  Gregg,  have  you?"  he 
asks  almost  timidly. 

"  Her  bills,  I  suppose  you  mean.  If  I  have,  Cap- 
tain Turner,  it  only  serves  her  righV  I'm  sure  she 
has  shown  me  little  mercy  or  consideration." 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  17 

"  "Well,  clear,  for  my  sake,  then,  don't  speak  of  it 
to  anybody.  Gregg  is  one  of  my  firmest  friends, 
and  whatever  you  say  of  his  wife  is  sure  to  get 
around  to  them  sooner  or  later  in  aggravated — 
exaggerated — form,  and  it  would  hurt  him  cruelly." 

Mrs.  Turner  has  impatiently  whirled  about  and  is 
once  more  gazing  out  upon  the  parade.  A  petulant 
exclamation  escapes  her  before  his  words  are 
finished.  She  is  black-browed — pouting  now. 

"  You  haven't  spoken  of  it  to  any  one,  have  you, 
dear  ?''  he  asks. 
^  No  answer. 

Turner  walks  close  up  to  her  as  she  stands  half 
shrouded  by  the  curtains.  "Don't  be  afraid  to  tell 
me,  Fan,"  he  pleads.  "I  think  I  ought  to  know." 

"  Afraid  1"  she  flashes  indignantly.  "  What  is 
there  to  be  afraid  of  ?  Very  possibly  I  have  spokeu 
of  it  to  Mrs.  Eaymond,  who  notices  just  exactly 
what  I  have — and  there  may  have  been  others  who 
heard,  for  all  I  care.  They  know  it's  just  exactly 
as  I  say.  How  can  you  be  so  absurd  and  make 
such  a  fuss  over  such  a  little  matter.  I'd  just  as 
lief  say  it  to  her  face/' 

"  Say  it  to  no  one,"  are  Turner's  next  words. 
"  Your  imprudence  has  cost  me  two  or  three  friend- 
ships I  valued,  and  I  should  hate  to  be  at  odds  with 
Gregg.  Now  it  is  time  for  me  to  go.  Do  not  ex- 


IB  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

pect  me  until  luncheon.  The  moment  court  adjourns 
I  must  go  to  the  troop  office." 

She  never  turns  to  say  good-by.  Her  sullen  face 
is  pressed  close  to  the  pane,  but  she  darts  back 
quickly  as  two  tall  officers  come  suddenly  in  sight — 
Captain  Truscott  and  Lieutenant  Blake.  Turner, 
too,  catches  sight  of  them  as  they  march  quickly 
by,  and  waits  a  moment  to  let  them  get  well  up  the 
row  ahead  of  him.  He  is  in  no  mood  for  compan- 
ionship. He  looks  sadly,  wistfully  at  the  willful 
woman  before  him  a  moment,  but  her  back  is  obsti- 
nately turned  to  him.  She  returns  to  the  window, 
and  without  another  word  he  leaves  the  house.  At 
the  gate  he  glances  toward  the  casement,  hopeful 
of  one  relenting  look  or  smile,  but  now  she  has  dis- 
appeared, and  Turner  goes  on  to  his  duty  with  a 
long  sigh  and  a  heavy  heart. 

"It  is  my  own  doing,"  he  says.  "If  I  had  set 
my  foot  down  firmly  years  ago  she  would  have 
learned  and  forgiven;  but  its  too  late  now — too 
late." 

As  he  is  passing  Major  Barry's  quarters  the  storm 
door  flies  open  and  out  comes  the  senior  battalion 
commander  himself,  gray  mustached,  jtkeen  eyed, 
spare  of  flesh,  alert,  and  vigorous.  "  Ha !  Turner," 
he  says,  "  well  met.  Have  you  heard  any  particu- 
lar§  ?  Do  you  know  what  we're  to  do  ?" 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  19 

"  I've  heard  nothing,  major,  except  a  rumor  of 
trouble  at  the  South  Cheyenne  agency." 

"  Indeed !  "Well,  the  colonel  has  just  sent  me 
word  that  our  battalion  is  to  be  put  in  readiness  for 
immediate  field  service,  and  a  scrimmage  is  coming 
sure." 


20  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 


CHAPTER  II. 

WHEN  the  little"  two-company  post  of  Fort  Fred 
Winthrop  was  broken  up,  Major  Barry,  of  the  — th 
Cavalry,  was  left  without  a  command,  and  so  was 
sent  to  the  headquarters  of  the  regiment  at  Russell. 
The  junior  major,  Stannard,  was  already  there,  but 
eight  troops  had  been  crowded  within  the  rickety 
fenced  enclosure,  and  that  gave  each  major  four 
troops — what  was  then  called  a  battalion.  Stannard 
swore  a  little  after  his  explosive  fashion.  He  had 
been  second  in  command  ever  since  their  return 
from  the  Sioux  campaign  of  1876,  and  he  hated  to 
see  an  officer  come  in  between  him  and  the  top. 
Not  that  he  disliked  Barry.  They  were  on  very 
good  terms,  though  not  exactly  intimate.  But 
Barry's  coming  necessitated  a  general  shaking  up 
as  to  quarters,  for  he  had  to  turn  out  a  senior  cap- 
tain in  order  to  get  the  house  to  which  his  rank 
entitled  him,  and  there  were  several  more  midwinter 
movings  as  a  consequence.  "I'm  sorry,"  he  said, 
"  heartily  sorry,  but  you  all  know  Mrs.  Barry  is  an 
invalid,  and  I  have  to  find  comfortable  quarters  for 
her." 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  *1 

Mrs.  Barry  was  indeed  an  invalid.  She  lay  for 
hours  every  day  on  a  couch  especially  prepared  for 
her,  rarely  even  drove  in  the  open  air,  and  was  in 
bed  every  night  by  nine  o'clock.  Her  main  enter- 
tainment consisted  in  being  read  to,  and  this  duty 
was  divided  between  her  devoted  husband  and  her 
companion.  Miss  Nathalie  Baird.  Mrs.  Barry  wa» 
essentially  a  gentlewoman,  courteous  and  consid- 
erate by  nature,  and  refined  with  that  almost  ultra 
refinement  that  is  the  product  of  long-protracted 
physical  suffering.  The  few  relatives  left  to  Miss 
Baird  considered  her  a  very  fortunate  girl  when  she 
was  offered  the  position  of  companion  to  Mrs.  Barry, 
even  though  the  salary  was  not  large ;  and  indeed 
her  lot,  for  an  orphan  girl  practically  homeless,  was 
anvthing  but  a  hard  one.  She  had  been  teaching 
in  the  village  school  and  leading  a  life  of  almost 
thankless  drudgery.  Her  health  was  suffering.  She 
had  not  even  nourishing  food;  boarding  around,  first 
in  one  family,  then  in  another,  in  that  narrow  New 
England  circle,  and  she  hailed  with  delight  the 
chano-e  that  took  her  to  the  broad,  free  frontier,  to 

O  '  * 

a  little  army  home  where  there  was  sympathy,  kind- 
liness, and  comfort.  Her  duties  were  light.  She 
read  aloud  from  books  of  Mrs.  Barry's  selection 
each  morning  from  ten  to  twelve,  but  was  given 
most  of  the  afternoon  for  exercise  and  recreation. 


ft*  A  GARRISON  TANQLB. 

From  two  to  four  the  major  himself  sat  by  the  side 
of  the  gentle  invalid,  and  in  the  evening,  as  a  rule, 
both  were  with  her.  Mrs.  Barry's  tastes  were 
scholarly,  and  the  morning  readings  were  a  liberal 
education  to  the  village  girl  whose  previous  life  had 
been  so  cramped  and  restricted.  She  proved  most 
faithful — indeed,  most  grateful.  She  grew  and 
thrived  and  blossomed  in  the  society  of  her  pro- 
tectors and  friends.  She  grew  to  love  Mrs.  Barry 
as  she  had  loved  none  of  her  own  kith  and  kin  since 
the  death  of  her  mother  five  years  gone  by.  Her 
father  she  could  remember  only  vaguely;  She  was 
barely  four  years  old  when  his  coffined  remains, 
draped  in  the  flag  he  had  died  to  defend,  were 
brought  back  from  Virginia  and  laid  away  in  the 
little  churchyard.  She  was  a  gentle,  pure-hearted 
maid,  only  nineteen  this  stormy  spring  of  1878.  She 
had  been  somewhat  angular,  and  bony,  and  hollow- 
eyed,  and  sallow-cheeked  when  first  she  came  to  the 
Barry s,  but  healthful  food,  and  exercise,  and  the 
bracing  mountain  air,  and  sound  sleep,  and  sweet 
companionship,  and  freedom  from  care  and  worry, 
one  and  all  had  done  their  work ;  and  Mrs.  Barry 
woke  up  one  fine  day  to  the  realization  that  they 
had  a  genuine  New  England  beauty  under  their 
roof — a  winsome  girl,  whose  features  and  coloring 
were  as  dainty  and  fair  as  those  of  the  Puritan 


A  GARRISON  T ANGLE.  23 

maid,  Priscilla.  The  thin  neck  and  bony  shoulders 
and  arms  had  given  plaoe  to  firm,  rounded,  dimpled 
members,  beneath  a  skin  so  white  as  to  be  almost 
dazzling.  The  hollow  eyes  were  gone,  for  a  tender 
light  burned  in  their  blue  depths,  a  delicate  flush 
played  over  the  soft,  rounded  cheeks,  and  a  smile  of 
sweet  content  hovered  about  the  corners  of  her  rosy 
mouth,  that,  a  year  gone  by,  quivered,  pale  and 
piteous. 

"  How  that  girl  has  improved  since  you  brought 
her  out,  dear  !"  said  the  major,  one  sunshiny  after- 
noon as  Nathalie  started  for  her  brisk  walk  over 
the  prairie. 

"Then  you've  noticed  it,"  answered  the  invalid, 
patting  his  big  brown  hand.  "  It  has  been  very 
sweet  to  me  to  watcb  it.  She's  a  good,  true-hearted 
girl,  Arthur." 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  the  only  one  to  notice  it,  Mary. 
Several  people  have  spoken  of  it  to  me,  and  as  for 
young  Maynard,  I'm  afraid  it's  getting  serious." 

"  My  responsibility  is  a  very  grave  one  where 
she  is  concerned,"  said  Mrs.  Barry,  after  a  thought- 
ful pause.  "  Of  course  I  could  not  but'  know  that 
Mr.  Maynard  was  greatly  attracted,  else  ho  wouldn't 
have  managed  to  walk  with  her  or  to  call  here  so 
often.  Do  you  know  anything  of  his  people  1" 

**  Nothing  whatever,  and  little  of  him  except  that 


34  -4  GARRISON"  TANGLE. 

he  acts  like  a  gentleman  on  all  occasions,  attends  to 
his  duties,  doesn't  drink  or  gamble,  and  lives  within 
his  means.  Stannard  and  Truscott  say  he's  one  of 
the  best  of  the  youngsters,  and  Blake  says  he  stood 
the  initiatory  six  months  at  Mrs.  Turner's  apron 
strings  without  a  sign  of  singeing  his  wings." 

"  "Well,  that  thralldoin  is  at  an  end,  certainly," 
said  Mrs.  Barry.  "  He  came  here  and  asked  her  to 
go  to  the  next  hop  with  him,  and  begged  me  to  in- 
tercede. I  did.  I  told  her  I'd  like  to  have  her  go 
if  only  to  look  on,  but  she  wouldn't  do  it.  She  says 
she  never  danced  in  her  life.  Mrs.  Stannard  came 
in  a  while  ago  and  she  talked  with  her — offered  to 
be  her  chaperon,  and  was  as  kind  and  sweet  as  pos- 
sible, but  Nathalie  shook  her  head  and  compressed 
her  lips,  and  we  saw  it  was  useless.  But  others  ad* 
mire  her  beside  Mr.  Maynard — Hunter  and  Dana 
visit  us  frequently,  and  Dana  has  invited  her  to 
drive,  but  she  declined.  TFAy,  do  you  suppose  ?" 

"Her  puritanical  bringing  up  probably.  Dana 
isn't  half  a  bad  fellow  and  comes  of  good  stock. 
Hunter  doesn't  amount  to  much.  He's  feather- 
brained. Well,  let's  get  at  our  book." 

And  meantime  the  object  of  this  household  chat 
was  picking  her  way  among  the  drifts,  and  walking 
blithely  and  briskly  over  the  barren  prairie,  well  to 
the  north  of  the  post,  singing  solemn  little  songs  to 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  JJ5 

herself — sober,  old-fashioned  hymn  tunes  as  a  rule, 
yet  catching  herself  now  and  then  humming  some 
one  of  the  stirring  quicksteps  or  waltzes  she  had 
heard  at  the  band  concerts,  whereat  she  would  sud- 
denly break  off  and  return  to  "  Brattle  Street "  or 
"  Coronation."  "  Jerusalem  the  Golden,"  it  seems, 
had  been  deemed  too  jubilant,  consequently  too 
carnal,  by  the  elders  of  her  village  church — elders, 
several  of  whom  came,  as  did  her  paternal  ancestors, 
from  the  old  Scotch  Covenanters.  That  she  dearly 
loved  music  and  had  a  quick  and  accurate  ear  was 
manifest  the  moment  she  opened  her  pretty  mouth 
and  gave  voice  to  her  favorites.  So,  too,  was  it  ap- 
parent that  all  her  childhood  and  young  maiden- 
hood had  been  spent  under  the  strict  tutelage  of  the 
descendants  of  a  Puritan  ancestry  to  whom  a  smile 
upon  the  Sabbath  day  was  akin  to  sacrilege.  One 
of  Mrs.  Barry's  amusing  stories,  told  when  Nathalie 
was  out  for  her  daily  exercise,  was  of  the  girl's  dis- 
may and  distress  when,  the  very  first  Sunday  after 
their  arrival  at  Russell,  the  band  played  its  jolliest 
"double  time"  for  the  details  marching  out  to 
guard  mounting.  "  She  ran  to  her  room  and  stop- 
ped her  ears,"  said  Mrs.  Barry,  laughing  at  the 
reminiscence,  "  and  could  not  be  induced  to  come 
to  the  window  and  watch  the  ceremony,  nor  would 
she  come  out  of  her  room  until  I  assured  her  the 


26  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

band  had  gone  back  to  barracks.  She  should  have 
been  named  Prudence  or  Rachel  or  Patience  or 
Charity.  How  on  earth  could  such  a  little  Puritan 
have  come  \>y  the  name  of  Nathalie.  One  would 
imagine  Sunday  to  be  a  day  of  penance  with  her. 
I'm  sure  she  is  shocked  to  see  the  major  opening 
his  morning  paper  and  reading  his  letters.  Some- 
times a  letter  from  her  old  home  comes  to  her  on 
Sunday,  but  she-puts  it  away  until  Monday  morning. 
I  never  have  her  read  to  me  on  Sunday.  She  goes 
to  service  morning  and  evening,  reads  her  Bible  and 
some  very  edifying  church  library  volumes  between 
times,  and  is  so  solemn,  nol  to  say  lugubrious,  that 
I  am  heartily  sorry  when  Saturday  night  comes, 
and  correspondingly  rejoiced  when  the  sun  goes 
down  on  Sunday.  Then  she  can  smile  again. 
Think  what  her  childhood  must  have  been." 

Solemn  and  sedate  as  she  had  been  taught  to  be 
on  Sunday  there  was  no  question  as  to  her  elasticity 
and  health  and  spirits  the  rest  of  the  week.  She 
skimmed  away  over  the  prairie  fast  and  free,  glory- 
ing in  the  upland  breeze,  the  rare  and  exhilarating 
atmosphere,  the  radiant  sunshine,  and  her  own 
exuberant  strength  and  vitality.  "  How  that  girl 
could  dance  if  she  only  would  dance !"  said  Mr. 
Tommy  Hollis,  whose  highest  idea  of  garrison  life 
was  a  german  every  week  and  a  hop  every  night. 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  27 

Up  at  Winthrop  all  the  olRcers  were  married,  and, 
this  being  her  first  experience  in  array  life,  Natha- 
lie was  very  shy  and  constrained.  She  thought 
both  men  and  women  frivolous  in  the  extreme, 
utterly  lacking  in  that  serious,  meditative  quality 
which  at  her  home  was  accepted  as  evidence  of  a 
religious  nature  and  a  reasonable  hope  of  ultimate 
salvation*  Elder  Pease,  she  was  sure,  would  have 
comprehensively  stamped  them  all,  except  perhaps 
Mrs.  Barry,  and  possibly  the  major,  as  "carnal."  But 
she  was  physically  in  a  sort  of  state  of  transition 
then,  being  still  angular  and  sallow  for  the  first  few 
weeks,  and  only  slowly  evolving  into  the  lily-like 
beauty  that  manifested  itself  at  Kussell.  She  had 
had  no  one  to  interrupt  her  prairie  tramps  at 
"Winthrop.  te 

But  here  at  Eussell  a  new  world  burst  upon  her 
astonished  vision.  Here  she  found  herself  followed, 
sought,  waylaid  by  three  or  four  very  presentable 
and  pleasing  young  men  in  most  becoming  uniforms 
— "  regimentals  "  she  called  them,  as  she  had  learned 
to  in  her  far  New  England  home — and  all  the 
Puritanism  in  the  world  was  not  proof  against  the 
woman  latent  in  her.  Do  Avhat  she  could  to  shame 
it,  beat  it  down,  abjure  it  as  "  carnal  and  worldly," 
this  homage  was  sweet  to  her  fresh  girlish  heart. 
It  made  her  deliciously  happy  in  spite  of  herself. 


gg  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

She  tried  to  overcome  it  by  dressing  in  still  more 
somber  shades  and  styles  at  first,  but  her  kind 
friend  and  protector  protested.  Mrs.  Barry  told  her 
emphatically  that  no  girl  should  be  allowed  to  make 
herself  hideous  when  nature  manifestly  intended 
her  to  look  radiantly  pretty.  The  Quakerlike  hood 
and  cloak  were  consequently  discarded,  not  without 
prickings  of  conscience  on  Nathalie's  part,  and  yet, 
with  easier  resignation  than  she  had  deemed  pos- 
sible, she  allowed  herself  to  be  attired  in  the  hat 
and  jacket  and  gloves  Mrs.  Barry  had  ordered  from 
Chicago,  and  then,  as  Hunter  said,  she  was  simply 
as  stunning  as  anything  he  had  ever  seen  at  "West 
Point. 

Then,  too,  she  had  at  first  been  grievously  em- 
barrassed by  the  attentions  of  the  bachelor  officers. 
No  gentleman  had  ever  asked  her  to  walk  or  drive 
or  ride — much  less  to  dance — before,  although  it 
had  often  occurred  that  Elder  Pease  or  Deacon 
Drummond  would  happen  along  about  the  time  she 
dismissed  her  scholars  and  started  on  her  long, 
lonely  walk  in  the  wintry  gloaming,  and,  whichever 
one  it  was,  he  wonld  accompany  her  much  of  the 
way  and  talk  in  most  edifying  fashion  of  the  world, 
the  flesh  and  the  devil.  Twice  it  came  to  pass  that 
these  two  pillars  of  the  church  appeared  upon  the 
scene — as  they  had  not  come — together.  They 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  29 

seemed  to  have  concentrated  on  the  little  stone 
schoolhouse  from  widely  different  directions,  each 
serenely  unconscious  of  the  other's  movements. 
These  two  worthy  men,  it  is  remembered,  were 
most  vehemently  opposed  to  Nathalie's  acceptance 
of  the  Barrys'  offer.  She  ought  never  to  be  allowed 
to  live  among  the  godless  men  and  women  who 
dwelt  in  army  barracks.  They  were  children  of 
wrath  whose  presence  was  contamination.  But 
there  was  a  hard-headed  old  uncle,  a  scoffer,  said 
Elder  Pease,  who  loved  Nathalie,  both  for  herself 
and  for  her  mother's  sake,  an  uncle  who  had  a  pain- 
fully big  and  dependent  brood  of  his  own,  who  bade 
her  go  by  all  means,  though  he  nearly  broke  down 
at  parting.  Yet  when  sne  was  gone  he  turned  upon 
elder  and  deacon  both,  with  triumph  in  his  eyes. 

At  first,  too,  Nathalie  shrank  from  accepting 
these  invitations  to  walk,  and  as  for  going  driving, 
Mrs.  Barry  had  almost  to  order  her.  She  was  pain- 
fully shy  and  embarrassed  for  a  few  days,  and  then 
that  began  to  wear  off  and  keen  enjoyment  replaced 
the  shyness.  Even  when  she  started  out  alone  she 
speedily  became  aware  of  Maynard  scouring  the 
prairie  on  his  spirited  horse,  leaping  the  broad  ace- 
q/uia  again  and  again,  and  finally  riding  up  in  sur- 
prise to  see  her,  and  dismounting  to  walk  by  her 
side,  while  Rienzi,  __with  mincing-  gait,  came  towing 
along  behind. 


30  -4  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

But  for  this  keen,  raw,  darksome  afternoon  the 
engagement  had  been  made  beforehand.  "  The 
boys "  \vere  finding  each  other  very  much  in  the 
way.  To  get  a  walk  or  chat  with  Miss  Baird  no\i 
one  had  to  see  her  several  days  ahead  and  make  an 
appointment.  There  had  been  no  very  bad  weather 
since  the  Barrys  came,  and  she  rarely  missed  her 
week-day  exercise  of  a  three-mile  tramp  each  after- 
noon, and  the  man  who  walked  with  her  need  not 
hope  to  saunter,  much  less  to  "  spoon."  Miss  Baird 
was  "out  for  business,"  as  Dana  said,  and  it  was 
quick  march,  one  hundred  and  twenty  to  the  minute, 
and  a  good  swinging  stride  from  start  to  finish. 

Then  Mrs.  Barry  was  becoming  interested  in 
Maynard's  devotions.  When  she  first  arrived  at 
the  post,  and  knew  him  and  heard  him  referred  to 
as  "  Mrs.  Turner's  latest,"  she  was  not  disposed  to 
like  him.  She  had  heard  of  Mrs.  Turner,  but  never 
before  had  been  stationed  at  the  same  post  with 
her.  She  forgot  at  first  that  every  young  fellow  on 
reporting  for  duty  at  regimental  headquarters  was 
immediately  "  annexed"  by  this  fair,  volatile,  and 
would-be  youthful  matron.  She  forgot,  until  laugh- 
ingly reminded  by  Mrs.  Stannard,  that  Hunter,  Dana, 
Hollis — almost  all  the  boys  in  fact — had  served  their 
apprenticeship.  Blake,  the  regimental  jester,  said 
that  plebehood  in  the  regiment  had  its  infallibly 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  31 

visible  signs  just  as  it  had  at  West  Point.  In  the 
— th  the  most  prominent  symptom  was  dancing 
attendance  on  Mrs.  Turner.  But  Maynard  had 
barely  been  well  settled  down  into  the  traces — had 
served  much  less  than  half  the  allotted  twelve- 
month— when  the  Barrys  crme  to  the  post,  and 
with  them  this  blue-eyed,  fair-haired,  peachy- 
cheeked  Puritan  maid,  and  Mrs.  Turner's  sway 
became  uncertain,  She  still  assumed  airs  of  pro- 
prietorship— Maynard  still  had  to  call  for  and 
escort  her  (,o  the  weekly  hops,  and  only  the  night 
before,  seeing  him  making  for  the  outer  air  in  the 
midst  of  the  dance,  although  she  was  leaning  on 
the  arm  of  a  partner  at  the  moment,  she  called 
after  her  "  orderly,"  as  Blake  designated  her  suc- 
cessive victims,  and  languidly  spoke:  "Oh,  Mr. 
Maynard,  would  you  mind  bringing  me  a  glass  of 
water,"  and  then  when  he  obediently  turned  and 
presently  appeared  with  a  brimming  goblet,  she 
sipped  a  ripple  or  two  from  the  surface  and,  ignor- 
ing her  partner  for  the  moment,  murmured,  "  Where 
were  you  going  ?" 

"  Over  home  a  few  minutes.  I  have  no  dances 
now,  you  know,  until  after  supper." 

"  You  won't  find  a  soul  up  at  the  Barrys,  unless 
you've  made  an  appointment.  Have  you  ?" 

"  None  whatever,  Mrs.  Turner,"  answered  May- 


82  A  OAHRISON  TANGLE. 

nard,  flushing  with  anno3Tance  and  embarrassment. 
"  Nor  did  I  think  of  going  there." 

"  I  think  you  are  very  mean  to  want  to  leave  me 
the  moment  you've  had  your  dance.  You  haven't 
been  as  kind  as  you  were  before  Miss  Baird  came. 
Come,  Mr.  Crane,"  she  said,  turning  to  her  partner 
with  an  air  of  patient,  pathetic,  but  undeserved  sor- 
row. "  Let  us  go  and  sit  down  somewhere.  I  don't 
think  I  care  to  dance  this  set." 

And  Maynard  strode  away  across  the  dark  parade 
toward  the  distant  lights  of  officers'  row,  feeling 
as  though  he  must  have  inflicted  something  akin  to 
heartache  on  a  winsome  and  appealing  woman,  yet 
vaguely  conscious  that  he  ought  not  to  be  held  to 
the  species  of  servitude  or  subjected  to  the  surveil- 
lance which  seemed  to  be  his  lot  since  falling  within 
the  sphere  of  Mrs.  Turner's  attractions.  His  own 
quarters  were  well  down  toward  the  east  end 
of  the  row.  Major  Barry's  were  just  as  far  toward 
the  west ;  but  no  sooner  was  he  beyond  the  range 
of  the  hop-room  lights  than  the  young  officer 
veered  toward  the  west  end,  and  presently  brought 
up  at  the  picket  fence  that  fronted  the  entire  line. 
The  Barrys'  parlor  lights  were  extinguished,  but  a 
faint  glimmer  came  through  the  shades  of  the  front 
dormer  window  of  the  second  floor,  and  that  was 
h&r  room — Mrs.  Barry's  being  on  the  ground  floor. 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  33 

The  night,  as  has  been  said,  was  dark  and  overcast. 
The  Cheyenne  zephyr,  a  stiff  gale  that  blew  three 
days  out  of  four  down  from  the  mountain  pass  to 
the  north  west,  and  across  the  open  prairie,  had  died 
away  at  nightfall,  and  all  was  as  still  as  the  night 
was  dark.  Over  across  the  parade  the  string  band 
of  the  — th  was  playing  rollicking,  opera  louffe 
music  for  the  Lancers  which  Mrs.  Turner  felt  too 
fatigued  or  hurt  to  dance.  They  were  winding 
through  the  final  figure  now,  and  even  though  the 
doors  and  windows  were  closed  against  the  keen 
wintry  air,  so  still  and  breathless  was  nature  that 
the  soft  hum  of  voices  or  occasional  burst  of  silvery 
laughter  was  borne  with  the  music  upon  the  wings  of 
night.  Leaning  there  upon  the  fence,  young  May 
nard  had  turned  his  back  to  the  sounds  of  merri- 
ment and  was  gazing  fixedly  at  that  upper  window. 
For  nearly  a  week  he  ha4  realized  that  within  that 
little  room,  behind  that  screening  shade,  there  dwelt 
the  one  fair  girl  who  held  his  fate,  for  cveal  or  woe, 
in  the  hollow  of  her  soft  white  hand. 

Then  the  music  suddenly  ceased.  The  "  Lancers  " 
was  over.  The  musicians  could  have  a  five  minutes* 
breathing  spell  before  they  struck  up  the  waltz,  and 
then,  as  if  she  had  only  been  waiting  for  the  stop- 
ping of  that  profane  and  frivolous  dance  tune,  the 
fair  occupant,  or  at  least  her  faint  shadow,  appeared 


34  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

at  the  window.  Maynard  started  with  joy.  He 
could  feel  the  instant  bounding  of  his  heart. 
Quickly  the  shade  was  raised.  Up  went  the  window, 
and  the  outlines  of  the  pretty  head,  and  the  slender 
girlish  form  that  were  the  object  of  his  idolatry, 
appeared  at  the  casement.  Resting  her  elbows  on 
the  sill,  her  cheeks  upon  her  hands,  Nathalie  leaned 
out  into  the  night,  drinking  in  the  mountain  air. 
It  was  just  ten  o'clock  and  the  trumpeter  from  the 
adjutant's  office  had  come  out  upon  the  dark  parade 
and  was  sounding,  as  was  the  custom  at  that  time, 
"lights  out"  at  that  comparatively  early  hour. 
Just  as  the  window  was  raised  Maynard  was  sure 
he  heard  the  sound  of  footsteps  across  the  road,  the 
crunching  of  boot  heels  in  the  snow  and  ice  heaped 
up  along  the  acequia  that  edged  the  parade,  and, 
glancing  thither,  he  distinctly  saw  the  figure  of  a 
man  in  heavy  overcoat  and  derby  hat  between  him 
and  the  lights  of  "  B  "  troop's  barracks.  But  at  the 
first  note  of  "  taps  "  these  lights  were  extinguished 
and  he  could  see  no  more  of  the  stranger,  nor  did 
he  care  to.  All  his  thoughts  and  longings  were 
concentrated  on  that  fair,  yet  dark  form  at  the  case- 
ment above.  He  watched  it  with  worship  in  his 
eyes.  To-morrow — to-morrow  afternoon  he  was  to 
accompany  her  on  her  walk.  Could  he  summon 
courage  enough  to  tell  his  sweet  secret  2  Was  it 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  35 

wisdom  to  do  so  now  when  she  had  known  him  so 
short  a  time  ?  Would  it  not  be  apt  to  startle,  even 
to  shock  her  ? 

That  footstep  again — and  still  in  front  of  the 
Barry s'  quartersl  Maynard  had  almost  forgotten 
the  wanderer.  "  Some  one  of  the  hack  drivers  from, 
town,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  trying  to  make  his  way 
to  the  store  for  a  drink  and  a  '  loaf '  by  the  stove." 
But  instead  of  going  on  down  to  the  store  the  fellow- 
was  still  prowling  somewhere  there  in  the  dark 
across  the  road,  and  dark  it  was  as  Erebus.  No ! 
He's  coming  across,  coming  steathily,  too,  for  the 
footfalls  though  audible  told  that  the  prowler  was 
tiptoeing  as  well  as  he  could  in  heavy,  triple-soled 
boots.  What  could  that  mean  ? 

From  his  post,  at  the  fence  opposite  the  open 
space  at  the  side  of  the  house,  Maynard  listened, 
breathless.  The  footfalls  ceased,  but  still  no  form 
could  be  seen.  Then  a  strange  thing  happened. 
He  could  have  sworn  he  heard  in  hoarse  whisper 
her  name,  "  Nathalie."  Straining  his  ears  he  heard 
it,  beyond  possibility  of  doubt,  again.  But  she  re- 
mained immovable,  except  that  now  her  face  was 
turned  upward  as  though  she  were  communing  with 
the  spirits  of  those  she  loved  who  had  been  taken 
from  earth.  Marveling,  wondering,  stricken  with 
a  jealous  dread,  Maynard  felt  that  ho  was  growing 


38  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

suddenly  cold,  that  his  knees  were  trembling — or 
was  it  a  shiver  ? 

The  next  instant  there  came  the  sound  of  sudden 
snap  or  crack,  then  a  bounding  and  rolling,  as  of  a 
pebble,  down  the  shingle  roof  of  the  piazza  into  the 
tin  gutter  that  edged  it.  Startled  from  her  reverie, 
frightened  she  knew  not  at  what,  the  girl  instantly 
fell  back  and  pulled  down  the  shade.  Maynard 
could  stand  it  no  longer.  Bounding  out  into  the 
road  he  hurled  himself  upon  the  tall,  dim  but  burly 
figure — a  man  whose  hat  was  pulled  down  over  his 
eyes  and  whose  coat  collar  was  up  about  his  ears. 
"  Who  are  you  and  what  are  you  doing  here  ?"  he 
fiercely  demanded.  For  just  about  three  seconds 
the  advantage  of  a  surprise  was  his.  Then  he  felt 
himself  suddenly  hurled  backward,  tripped  and  flung 
with  overpowering,  stunning  force  upon  the  icy 
roadway.  His  head  struck  the  solid  earth  with  a 
crack  that  sent  a  thousand  stars  dancing  before  his 
eyes,  and  when  he  scrambled  dizzily  to  his  feet  the 
muscular  intruder  had  vanished. 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  37 


CHAPTER  III. 

MA.YNAKD'S  head  was  still  sore  when  he  turned 
out  for  reveille  roll  call  the  next  morning.  He  had 
made  ineffectual  search  for  his  conqueror,  had 
questioned  the  sentry  at  the  east  front,  and  the 
hackman  who  brought  the  town  guests  out  to  the 
hop,  but  no  such  person  as  he  described  had  been 
seen  by  any  of  them.  He  went  to  his  quarters  and 
bathed  his  aching  head,  and  then  he  had  to  return 
to  the  hop-room.  Mrs.  Turner  rallied  him  upon  his 
pallor  and  his  utter  lack  of  devotion,  and  finding  him 
still  in  somber  mood  had  changed  her  tactics  and 
adopted  the  anxious  and  sympathetic  role.  Surely 
something  must  have  gone  amiss  with  him,  she 
said.  But  Maynard  would  admit  nothing.  He  was 
dazed  by  the  strange  adventure.  He  could  not — he 
would  not  speak  of  it  to  a  soul.  What  would  not 
be  the  excitement  in  garrison  were  he  to  announce 
that  a  stranger,  a  civilian,  was  under  Miss  Baird's 
window  at  ten  o'clock,  calling  her  by  her  Christian 
name  and  tossing  pebbles  at  her  window  to  attract 
her  attention  1  He  was  glad  of  the  detail  which  took 


3g  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

him  with  his  little  patrol  to  town  the  following 
morning.  The  duty  on  which  he  was  sent  was 
one  no  officer  relished,  and  it  should  not  have  been 
thrust  upon  him,  the  junior  of  the  regiment,  nor 
would  it  have  been  had  the  colonel  known  whom 
the  adjutant  had  detailed.  The  duty  involved 
visiting  groggeries,  gambling  hells  and  brothels  in 
search  of  the  missing  men;  being  abused  and  insulted 
by  slatternly  women  and  bar-room  loafers  living 
like  parasites  for  the  time  being  on  the  bounty  of 
the  half-stupefied  soldiers,  yet  Maynard  wanted  to 
get  away  from  his  engagement  with  Mrs.  Turner. 
He  wanted  to  think  quietly  as  he  rode  town  ward 
at  the  head  of  his  little  detachment,  with  the  yellow 
ambulance  bringing  up  the  rear,  how  or  whether  he 
could  tell  Miss  Baird  he  was  a  witness,  through  his 
sense  of  hearing,  at  least,  to  what  took  place  the 
night  before ;  but  he  had  by  no  means  made  up  his 
mind  when  they  entered  the  outskirts  of  Cheyenne, 
and  riding  briskly  to  a  big  stable-yard  near  the 
center  of  the  town,  left  their  horses  there  with  one 
man  in  charge,  and  then,  armed  with  their  revolvers, 
started  on  their  search.  No  good  could  come  of 
asking  questions.  The  populace  of  those  days  was 
always  in  league  with  the  deserter  or  absentee 
without  leave  so  long  as  he  had  money.  Then  not 
infrequently  would  they  turn  the  poor  fellow  over 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  39 

to  the  marshal  or  sheriff  and  get  half  the  re- 
ward offered  for  the  apprehension  of  soldier  ren- 
egades. To  load  them  drunk  into  a  hack,  turn 
them  over  at  the  guardhouse  and  claim  the  entire 
reward  of  thirty  dollars  per  man  would  have  been 
bad  generalship.  The  hand  of  every  soldier  would 
have  been  against  the  traitor  from  that  time  on. 
They  would  have  killed  the  goose  that  laid  the 
golden  egg.  Maynard  had  an  old  sergeant  with 
him  who  knew  the  ins  and  outs  of  every  haunt  of 
the  bibulous  among  the  boys  in  blue,  and  he  led  on, 
silent,  relentless,  unerring.  Five  minutes'  brisk 
tramp  brought  them  to  a  combination  concert  hall 
and  gambling  house.  One  or  two  loungers  in  front, 
at  sight  of  the  coming  patrol,  darted  inside,  and 
when  the  sergeant  reached  the  glazed  doors  they 
were  bolted.  "Quick,"  he  ordered  the  corporal, 
"  take  Schultz  and  Meyer  and  get  around  to  the 
rear  door.  Nab  every  one  of  our  fellows  that  comes 
out."  Then  he  banged  on  the  frontdoor  for  admis- 
sion. 

But  the  "fellows"  didn't  come.  It  was  full  a 
minute  before  the  sergeant's  summons  was  answered. 
Then  a  head  was  poked  out  of  an  upper  window,  a 
head  on  a  broad  grin,  and  an  oily,  Milesian  voice 
demanded,  "  What  the  devil  is  wanted  ?  There's  no 
game  until  to-night/' 


40  A  GARRISON  TANGLti. 

"  The  game  we  want  is  under  this  roof,  Maloney, 
and  you  know  it,"  was  the  sergeant's  sturdy  reply. 
"  Now  we  don't  mean  to  break  in,  neither  can  they 
break  out.  It's  only  a  reasonable  fine  and  a  few 
days'  fatigue  duty  they'll  be  getting  for  going  back 
quietly  with  us  now,  but  it'll  be  a  dollar  an  hour  for 
every  hour  we  have  to  wait,  and  we  can  camp 
right  here  until  they're  starved  out,  if  need  be.  So 
tell  the  gang  to  be  wise  and  come  at  once ..'* 

By  this  time  a  little  crowd  had  begun  to  gather. 
Maynard,  silently  awaiting  the  result  of  the  ser- 
geant's appeal,  and  trusting  to  his  larger  experience 
in  such  matters,  was  pondering  over  the  legal  aspect 
of  the  case  and  wondering  whether  Wyoming  laws 
would  be  very  savage  at  his  expense  in  case  he 
forced  an  entrance  in  search  of  his  truant  troopers, 
when  he  noticed  that  the  glazed  doors  of  a  some- 
what similar  establishment  across  the  way  were 
swinging  slowly  open,  and  that  a  knot  of  curious 
and  attentive  spectators  huddled  close  behind 
them,  yet  keeping  within  shelter  and  as  much  as 
possible  out  of  sight,  evidently  desirous  of  escaping 
observation.  Closer  at  hand  the  rapidly  arriving 
populace  began  to  indulge  in  chaff  and  facetious 
remarks,  much  to  the  annoyance  of  the  sergeant 
and  the  comfort  of  the  Irishman  aloft,  who,  recog- 
nizing sympathetic  souls  in  the  crowd,  stuck  his 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  41 

head  still  further  out  and  exchanged  jubilant  greet- 
ing with  cronies  on  the  sidewalk. 

"  How  much  a  head  will  ye  give  me,  sergeant,  for 
preserving  their  lives?  Sure  Hannifin's  whisky 
across  the  way  there  would  burn  the  stomach  out  of 
a  brass  monkey.  It's  rewarded  heavily  I  ought  to 
be.  But  I'm  wastin'  wurds  wid  you,  sergeant. 
Let  the  liftenant  spake.  Sure  he  looks  like  a 
liberal,  high-minded  gentleman,  which  you  don't, 
sergeant.  Sure  it's  Mister  Maynard  I  know,  an'  ye 
mustn't  be  givin'  it  away,  boys  ;  but  it's  him  knows 
ivery  room  on  the  premises  and  wins  his  month's 
pay  twice  over  at  Scolly's  table.  Doan't  ye  now, 
liftenant  ?" 

The  street  crowd  shouted  its  approbation  of  this 
sally,  and  yelled  with  delight  when  Maloney  was 
shoved  to  one  side  and  another  face,  on  a  feminine 
head,  was  thrust  beside  that  of  the  first  occupant. 
It  was  fiery,  or  rather  carroty  red,  while  the  eyes 
were  bleary  and  the  nose  purple.  Maloney  was  the 
chartered  "bouncer"  of  the  establishment  and  this  his 
brawny  helpmate.  In  the  cosmopolitan  make-up  of 
the  populace  of  Cheyenne  of  those  days  the  Irish 
were  scarce.  Even  John  Chinaman  was  seldom  to 
be  seen.  The  crowd  was  typically  frontier  Ameri- 
can, and  gifted  with  all  the  American's  passion  for 
personal  liberty  and  propensity  for  fun  at  any  ex- 


43  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

pense.  Here  was  a  squad  of  regulars,  with  a  trig 
young  West  Pointer  in  command,  seeking  to  com- 
pass the  arrest  of  an  equal  number  of  renegade  com- 
rades, and  balked  in  the  attempt  by  the  very  fact 
that  they  represented  the  force  and  majesty  of  the 
federal  government.  Had  the  offender  or  offenders 
been  guilty  of  any  crime  against  the  person  or 
property  of  a  fellow  citizen  of  Cheyenne,  they,  the 
crowd,  would  have  smashed  in  those  fragile  glazed 
doors  and  nabbed  the  culprits  instanter;  but  as  it 
was  simply  Uncle  Sam  who  was  wronged  and  defied, 
only  their  risibilities  were  appealed  to.  It  was  fun 
to  contemplate  the  impotence  of  the  armed  force 
sent  by  the  government  to  reclaim  its  own,  provided 
it  could  be  done  without  recourse  to  invasion  of 
private  property.  Maloney's  master's  gambling 
hell  was  his  castle,  open  to  any  citizen  when  its 
master  chose,  but  forbidden  to  the  law  abiding  at 
other  times,  and  to  Uncle  Sam  when  he  had  no 
search  warrant. 

Then  the  crowd  began  to  cheer  Mrs.  Maloney  and 
call  for  a  speech,  and  more  of  the  populace  arrived. 
The  absurdity  of  the  situation  was  patent  to  May  nard 
from  the  start,  but  the  sergeant  was  fiery  and  wrath- 
ful. His  little  squad  was  being  elbowed  and  crowded 
and  encompassed  round  about,  not  in  angry  threat 
or  abuse,  but  in  jovial  fashion.  Mrs.  Maloney, 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  43 

nothing  loath,  had  begun  her  harangue,  and  her 
voice  had  the  carrying  power  of  a  rifle.  Maynard 
saw  the  hopelessness  of  the  situation  and  stepped  to 
the  sergeant's  side.  "  Get  your  men  together  at 
once,"  he  said,  "we  must  pull  out  of  this."  The 
sergeant  looked  astonished,  hesitated  a  moment, 
then  said,  "All  right,  sir,  if  you  say  so,"  and  bustled 
round  to  the  back  door  after  the  corporal.  In 
silence  the  patrol  then  bored  a  way  through  the 
laughing,  jeering,  chaffing  throng,  and  started  up 
the  street.  "Where  to,  sir?"  said  the  sergeant 
sulkily.  He  hated  to  retire,  and  had  had  no  such 
schooling  in  respect  to  civil  laws  as  had  been  pounded 
into  his  young  superior  at  the  Point. 

"  Back  to  the  horses,"  was  the  answer.     "  We 
can  accomplish  nothing  here." 

But  the  crowd,  like  most  Cheyenne  assemblages 
in  the  days  of  old,  had  nothing  in  particular  to  do. 
It  had  been  recruited  from  all  the  bar-rooms 
in  the  neighborhood,  and  desired  to  be  amused, 
so  it  promptly  resolved  itself  into  an  escort 
for  the  troopers,  and  traveled  along  after  them  a 
block  or  so.  Then  an-  inspiration  seized  several  of 
its  prominent  constituents  and  a  dozen  of  the  num« 
ber  slipped  away  from  the  escorting  party  and  ran 
rapidly  down  a  side  street,  and  two  minutes  later,  as 
Maynard  turned  into  the  broad  thoroughfare  on 


44  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

which  opened  the  corral  where  they  had  left  their 
horses  with  their  single  guardian,  he  was  treated  to 
a  sensation.  Confident  of  the  applause  of  their 
fellow  citizens,  and  reckless  of  law  or  order,  a  gang 
of  the  choicest  spirits  had  dashed  upon  the  enclos- 
ure, instantly  overpowering  the  bewildered  sentry; 
and  while  some  stood  guard  over  his  prostrate  form, 
the  others  unlinked  the  excited  horses,  threw  them- 
selves into  saddle  and,  laughing  and  cheering,  came 
clattering  out  into  the  street.  This  changed  the 
whole  situation  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  Taught 
to  respect  the  rights  and  protect  the  property  of 
other  men,  Maynard  had  very  positive  convictions 
for  a  youngster  as  to  the  sacred  nature  of  the  claims 
of  Uncle  Sam.  So  long  as  only  chaff  and  ridicule 
were  the  weapons  of  the  populace  his  equanimity 
had  not  been  disturbed,  but  now  he  blazed  with 
wrath.  A  yell  of  delight  went  up  from  some  of  the 
throng  at  sight  of  the  motley  troop  ranging  into 
line  a  hundred  yards  away,  but,  even  then  and  there, 
were  men  who  realized  at  once  how  wild  and  how 
serious  a  prank  was  this,  and  how  widespread  might 
be  the  havoc  of  its  consequences.  Instantly  two  or 
three  men  started  for  the  young  officer,  shouting : 
"  Don't  notice  it,  lieutenant.  Don't  do  anything. 
We'll  get  the  horses." 

Very  possibly  if  Maynard  had  halted  his  party 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  45 

then  ana  tnere,  or  turned  back  and  marched  them 
into  the  adjoining  street,  the  wiser  among  the  citi- 
zens could  have  persuaded  the  offenders  of  the  mag- 
nitude of  their  sin,  and  the  horses  would  have  been 
restored  with  rough,  but  profuse,  frontier  apologies. 
But  the  blood  of  the  patrol  was  up.  Here,  at  least, 
was  something  they  had  a  right  to  resent,  and  all  in 
an  instant  Maynard  and  his  little  party  started  on 
the  jump  for  the  despoilers.  It  was  a  bitter  cold 
day,  as  has  been  said.  The  troopers  were  in  heavy 
overcoats  and  shoes,  fur  caps  and  gloves,  and  they 
could  not  make  a  sprint  despite  their  best  efforts. 
It  would  have  been  easy  enough  for  the  riders  to 
dash  away,  but  all  the  devil  of  frontier  fun,  reck- 
lessness and  whisky  was  at  work,  and  clinging,  as 
some  of  them  had  to  do,  to  their  plunging  and  excited 
steeds,  down  they  came,  following  the  lead  of  a 
jovial  tough  who  had  mounted  Maynard's  own 
horse.  Luckily  the  leader  had  no  spurs;  luckily  the 
horse  seemed  to  recognize  his  master  as  the  foremost 
of  the  familiar  blue-coats,  for  despite  the  furious 
urging  and  kicking  of  the  tall  townsman  on  his 
back,  "  Rienzi "  came  snorting  and  plunging  straight 
to  Maynard's  side,  and  the  lieutenant,  never  laying: 
hand  upon  the  rein,  was  at  the  joker's  stirrup  in  a 
second.  Another  second  and  both  his  sinewy  hands 
had  grasped  the  rider's  boot  and  had  toppled— 


46  4  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

hurled  him  head  foremost  out  of  saddle  to  the  icy 
ground.  It  was  all  done  so  quickly  that  no  one 
realized  what  had  happened  until,  as  the  other 
horses  seemed  instinctively  to  halt  and  cluster  about 
their  loader,  and  the  other  troopers  to  seize  their 
mounts,  and  the  momentary  riders  to  tumble  or 
throw  themselves  from  their  seats,  it  was  seen  that 
the  ringleader  of  the  gang  lay  prostrate  as  he  had 
plunged,  his  head  turned  to  one  side  and  a  dark 
stream  of  blood  oozing  from  underneath. 

Some  one  had  set  up  a  sympathetic  cheer  at 
Mayard's  exploit.  So  long  as  all  remained  on  the 
same  footing,  the  crowd  was  a  unit  in  its  desire  to 
have  fun  at  the  expense  of  the  soldiers,  but  when  its 
bolder  spirits  appeared  in  saddle  they  forfeited  the 
full  measure  of  the  sympathy  of  a  fickle  populace, 
and  Maynard's  deft  and  skillful  and  marvelously 
quick  settlement  of  the  question  won  their  admira- 
tion. All  the  same  there  was  a  prompt  rush  to  aid 
and  lift  the  prostrate  man,  a  task  none  too  easy,  for 
he  proved  to  be  tall,  very  powerfully  built,  and  utterly 
a  dead  weight  on  the  hands  of  those  who  bore  him. 
The  blood  was  streaming  from  a  jagged  gash  on 
the  right  side  of  the  forehead,  and  it  was  evident  at 
a  glance  that  the  contusion  and  shock  had  been 
severe.  The  rollicking  mood  of  the  crowd  had  sud- 
denly changed,  and  as  one  man  they  flocked  densely 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  47 

about  the  central  figure,  Maynard,  who,  turning  his 
horse  over  to  the  care  of  one  of  the  troopers,  and 
directing  the  sergeant  to  lead  the  patrol  a  little 
distance  away,  was  now  busy  in  the  effort  to  revive 
his  late  tormentor. 

"  Does  anybody  know  where  he  lives — who  he 
is  ?"  he  inquired,  as  he  knelt  and  began  bathing 
away  the  blood  with  a  sponge  handed  him  by  some 
sympathetic  soul. 

"  He's  only  been  here  a  few  days,  lieutenant,"  an- 
swered one  of  the  throng,  a  stalwart  fellow  in  a 
buffalo  overcoat  and  wolfskin  cap.  "  He's  been 
playing  at  the  Empire,  where  you  were  a  few  min- 
utes ago,  since  Monday.  First  off  he  quit  winner 
two  or  three  times  and  treated  liberal,  but  luck 
turned  on  him.  I  reckon  he's  about  cleaned  out. 
Didn't  show  up  at  the  table  last  night  at  all." 

Maynard  looked  up  into  the  speaker's  face. 
"  Would  you  mind  calling  a  doctor  ?"  he  said.  "  I'll 
pay  his  bill.  Of  course  I'm  sorry  the  man  is  so 
badly  hurt,  but " 

"  Oh,  you're  all  right,  lieutenant.  Nobody's 
going  to  blame  you  in  the  matter.  We  were  all  ripe 
for  a  little  fun,  but  had  no  idea  these  fellows  would 
be  such  damned  fools  as  to  try  to  steal  your 
horses  ;"  and  here  the  fur-clad  giant  cast  a  disdain- 
ful glance  at  one  or  two  of  the  would-be  cavaliers, 


48  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

the  only  ones  of  that  luckless  party  to  remain  and 
hang  shamefacedly  about  their  late  leader.  "  You 
fellows  were  eager  enough  to  follow  this  man," 
said  he,  triumphing  over  the  comments  and  ques- 
tions hazarded  by  others  in  the  crowd.  "Don't 
you  know  his  name  ?" 

"Nut bin'  more'n  what  he  told  me,"  sheepishly 
answered  one  of  the  two,  with  copious  libation  of 
tobacco  juice  and  a  shrug  of  his  broad  shoulders. 
"  Said  he'd  been  in  the  San  Juan  country — had 
made  a  stake  mining  and  ha/1  been  robbed  of  most 
of  it  in  Denver  by  fellows  who  had  run  up  here. 
There  was  a  rooster  with  him  two  or  three  days  ago 
who  called  him  Boston,  and  he  'lowed  that  was  the 
name  he  generally  went  by." 

Somebody  elbowed  a  way  to  the  side  of  the  vic- 
tim and  his  amateur  nurses,  a  glass  of  whisky  in 
his  hand — the  one  restorative  almost  sure  to  be  ob- 
tainable on  the  frontier — and  Maynard  forced  a  few 
drops  between  his  patient's  teeth. 

"  That  won't  help,  lieutenant,"  chuckled  a  by- 
stander. "Nuthin'  short  of  four  fingers  will  begin 
to  tell  on  his  mucus.  He's  copper-lined,  he  is ;" 
whereat  the  assemblage  snickered.  Maynard  re- 
peated the  dose,  and  a  fluttering  sigh  was  the  speedy 
response.  The  sponge  was  actively  plied.  More 
whisky  was  administered,  this  time  with  less  diffi- 


A  VARRI80N  TANGLE.  49 

culty,  and  then  the  feeble  hand  sought  to  find  the 
battered  head,  but  fell  back  limply.  "  Open  his 
shirt,  lieutenant,"  suggested  the  man  who  knew  him 
as  "  Boston,"  and  the  young  officer's  hand  sought 
the  heavy  muffler  that  was  twisted  loosely  about 
the  neck.  A  coarse  blue  flannel  shirt  was  revealed, 
was  opened  at  the  throat,  and  then  a  package  in 
oiled  silk,  hanging  by  a  silken  cord,  was  found,  and 
then  came  a  doctor.  Lifting  an  eyelid,  he  peeped 
into  the  dull  pupiL  felt  the  pulse,  and  placed  his 
hand  over  the  heart.  "  My  office  is  only  a  few  steps 
away.  Lift  him  up  and  bring  him  there,"  said  he, 
in  the  quiet,  authoritative  tone  of  the  professional 
who  had  dwelt  long  among  men,  most  of  whose  dead 
he  had  attended  immediately  before  or  after  their 
sudden  dissolution,  and  had  seen  them  buried  as 
they  fell,  with  their  boots  on.  The  order  was 
obeyed  in  silence.  A  shutter  was  lifted  from  its 
hinges  at  the  nearest  saloon,  the  patient  was  hoisted 
thereon,  and  the  march  began.  Maynard  stopped  a 
moment. 

"  Leave  Schultz  here  with  my  horse,  sergeant,  and 
go  with  the  other  men  to  gather  what  you  can  of 
the  absentees.  This  has  made  a  diversion  in  our 
favor.  I'll  join  you  at  the  Empire  presently." 

A  discontented  crowd  hovered  at  the  foot  of  the 
doctor's  stairs.  That  level-headed  personage  had 


50  A  GARHI80N  TANGLE. 

ordered  out  everybody  but  Buffalo  Coat  and  the 
man  who  knew  the  patient  as  Boston,  but  he  opened 
to  Maynard's  knock.  "  Come  in,  lieutenant,"  he 
promptly  said,  as  soon  as  he  saw  the  face  at  the 
door.  "  You  gave  this  big  fellow  a  sharp  lesson, 
but  I  fancy  he  deserved  it.  These  gentlemen  (here 
he  winked  sagely  at  the  officer)  have  given  me  the 
particulars.  No,"  he  continued,  "  there's  no  fract- 
ure, no  serious  concussion.  He'll  come  around 
presently.  All  that's  likely  to  be  necessary  is  a 
quiet  room  and  complete  rest  for  a  few  days.  We 
have  no  public  hospital  as  yet.  The  coroner's  office 
ordinarily  is  all  that  is  necessary." 

"  Will  you  kindly  see  that  he  gets  every  attention, 
doctor,  and  send  the  bill  to  me  at  the  fort.  My 
name's  Maynard,"  said  the  officer.  "  Now  I  have 
to  join  my  men,  if  I  can  be  of  no  further  use  or 
service  here,"  whereupon  the  two  shook  hands  and 
parted. 

Buffalo  Coat  followed  to  the  door.  "  You're  a 
damned  good  fellow,  lieutenant/'  said  he,  "and 
I'm  sorry  the  gang  behaved  as  they  did.  It  was 
the  sergeant  they  were  after,  not  you.  He's  all 
right,  too,  only  he  gets  huffy  when  they  guy,  and 
that's  nuts  for  the  crowd.  Now  I'll  let  you  in  to 
the  whereabouts  of  your  strays.  There  was  only 
one  at  the  Empire,  lying  dead  drunk  in  the  back 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  51 

room,  but  there's  a  raft  of  'em  across  the  road  at 
Hannifin's,  some  in  plain  clothes.  Their  money's 
about  given  out  and  he'll  be  glad  to  get  rid  of  'em." 
Maynard  thanked  the  man  rather  coldly,  and  im- 
patiently too,  though  he  could  hardly  say  why, 
mounted  his  horse,  overtook  the  patrol  a  few  blocks 
away,  and  imparted  the  tidings  to  his  sergeant. 
Two  minutes  later  they  had  dismounted  again  in  a 
side  street,  molested  and  followed  no  longer, 
though  the  populace  still  hovered  curiously  about 
bar-room  doors.  The  corporal  with  two  men  was 
sent  through  a  back  alley  to  the  rear  yard  and  door- 
way of  Hannifin's  place.  Maynard  and  his  party 
suddenly  appeared  at  the  invitingly  open  front,  and 
with  the  tacit  consent  of  the  proprietor  began  their 
search  of  the  premises,  upstairs  and  down.  From 
under  beds  and  out  of  closets  they  dragged  three  of 
the  absentees,  then  they  invaded  the  cellar.  Al- 
most immediately  there  was  a  rush  from  a  dark 
corner,  a  crash  of  boxes  and  barrels  upon  the  re- 
sounding floor.  The  sergeant's  lantern  was  shivered 
to  bits.  There  followed  a  sound  of  blows,  curses 
and  struggles.  Two  dim  figures  bounded  away  up 
the  steps,  and  Maynard,  striving  to  follow,  stum- 
bled over  a  prostrate  form,  and  then,  suddenly 
conscious  of  a  sharp  pang  in  the  side,  found  his 
searching  hand  deluged  with  his  own  blood  and 
everything  growing  dim  and  dark  about  him. 


52  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

Before  he  had  finished  bandaging  patient  number 
one,  Dr.  Corry  was  hurriedly  summoned  to  Han- 
nifin's  by  the  report  that  Lieutenant  Maynard  had 
been  stabbed  to  death. 

There  was  a  telegraph  line  from  Cheyenne  to 
the  adjutant's  office  at  Fort  Russell  in  those  days. 
Orderly  call  had  just  sounded  and  the  adjutant  was 
still  at  his  work  when  in  came  the  soldier  operator 
with  white,  scared  face.  "Lieutenant,"  said  he, 
"  the  town  office  says  Loot'nant  Maynard's  stabbed 
through  the  heart  trying  to  arrest  deserters." 

The  colonel  and  Major  Barry  had  been  having  a 
consultation  about  the  probable  movement  of  the 
battalion  to  the  field,  and  were  just  coming  forth 
into  the  hall.  Both  heard  the  abrupt  announce- 
ment. Both  started — the  colonel  into  the  adjutant's 
room — the  major  for  his  home. 

"  For  God's  sake  keep  it  quiet  as  you  can,"  were 
the  latter's  words,  "at  least  until  I've  had  time  to 
Weak  it  to  my  wife." 


A  GARRISON  TAXtiLE.  fij 


A  SPELL  of  dull  weather  had  fallen  on  tb*»  fort. 
Except  when  a  snowstorm  was  raging  tho  Wyo- 
ming skies  were  generally  clear  and  cloudless,  and 
they  had  had  earlier  in  the  month  a  snowstorm 
fierce  enough  and  long  enough  to  render  further 
specimens  entirely  unnecessary.  The  wind  had 
taken  a  freak  of  blowing  from  the  south  for  thirty- 
six  hours,  and  the  men  were  scurrying  about  with- 
out overcoats — the  men  of  Stannard's  battalion,  that 
is,  for,  true  to  prediction,  Barry  had  gone.  Buxton 
and  Freeman,  Raymond  and  Turner,  Gregg  and 
Wayne,  Truscott  and  Ray  were  the  eight  captains 
whose  troops  were  quartered  at  Russell.  Buxton 
was  away  on  leave,  but  his  troop  was  in  Barry's  bat- 
talion and  so  were  Freeman's,  Raymond's  and 
Wayne's.  There  wasn't  a  woman  whose  husband 
had  to  go  who  did  not  think,  down  in  the  bottom  of 
her  heart,  that  it  ought  to  have  been  the  other  bat- 
talion, or  at  least  that  if  one  had  to  go  both  should 
have  gone,  and  most  of  them  said  so.  To  Mrs. 
Barry  there  was  greater  trial  and  hardship  in  the 


54  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

separation  from  her  devoted  husband  than  to  the 
wives  of  many  of  his  juniors.  But  she  was  silent. 
Nathalie  Baird  alone  knew  what  it  meant  to  the 
invalid,  and  her  own  attentions  would  have  been 
redoubled,  but  Mrs.  Stannard  had  promptly  ap- 
peared to  beg  that  she  might  take  the  major's  place 
at  the  afternoon  readings,  and  Mrs.  Ray  and  Mrs. 
Atherton,  the  colonel's  wife,  had  been  almost  equally 
insistent,  and  other  ladies  had  called  to  know  if 
there  wasn't  something  they  could  do — even  Mrs. 
Turner  who  never  read  anything.  And  they  all  had 
so  much  to  say  about  "  dear  Mr.  Maynard,"  ancl 
what  a  shocking  thing  it  was,  and  how  dreadful  to 
have  to  wire  to  his  home  people  that  he  was  so 
seriously  wounded.  His  mother,  it  appears,  was 
dead,  his  father  old  and  too  feeble  to  undertake  the 
long  journey,  but  his  sister  was  already  on  the  way. 
He  still  lay  in  a  room  at  the  Inter  Ocean  in  town, 
too  severely  injured  and  too  weak  to  be  moved. 
There  was  fear  of  fever,  possibly  of  blood  poison- 
ing,  so  said  the  savants,  and  his  friends  at  the  fort 
could  only  submit. 

Atherton  was  an  angry  man  when  told  all  that 
had  transpired  in  town.  He  came  down,  said  the 
troopers,  like  a  thousand  of  brick  on  the  fellows 
brought  back  by  the  patrol,  had  caused  rewards  to 
be  offered  for  the  two  still  at  large,  one  of  whom  at 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  55 

least  had  been  guilty  of  stabbing  the  lieutenant. 
Maynard  and  his  men,  coming  fr<3ra  the  brightly 
lighted  saloon  into  the  dark  cellar,  could  seo  nothing. 
The  two  skulkers,  whose  eyes  had  become  accus- 
tomed to  the  gloom,  and  who  were  aided  by  the 
broad  streak  of  light  from  the  trap  iu  the  saloon 
floor,  had  plainly  seen  the  searchers  as  they  de- 
scended, had  made  their  bold  rush  for  freedom,  and 
easily  escaped.  But  this  they  could  have  done  with- 
out bloodshed,  and  even  those  who  had  been  their 
friends  at  the  fort  would  none  of  them  now.  The 
stabbing  of  young  Mr.  Maynard  was  absolutely 
without  justification,  even  by  men  who  had  prison 
staring  them  in  the  face.  They  were  crazed  by 
protracted  drinking,  was  the  only  explanation,  but 
it  was  nothing  more  than  explanation — it  was  no 
excuse.  Ever  since  the  end  of  September  the  pre^ 
vious  year  the  young  officer  had  been  steadily  on 
duty  with  his  troop.  It  takes  much  less  than  fiva 
months  for  veteran  soldiers  to  take  the  measure  oft 
or,  as  they  express  it,  "size  up"  an  officer, and  May. 
nard  was  thoroughly  well  liked  by  the  men  of  the 
entire  command.  Only  those  black  sheep  of  the 
fold,  the  irreconcilable  toughs  who  are  to  be  found 
to  the  number  of  two  or  three  in  almost  every  gar. 
rison,  could  find  it  in  their  hearts  to  say  aught 
against  him.  As  luck  would  have  it,  the  two  de* 


66  4  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

sorters  still  at  large  were  characters  of  this  type — 
blackguards  incarnate,  who  had  served,  doubtless, 
under  other  names  in  more  than  one  company  until 
the  loose  recruiting  methods  of  that  day  had  landed 
them  in  Buxton's  troop.  Here,  so  long  as  the  burly 
captain  was  on  duty,  they  had  no  bad  time.  Buxton 
had  a  peculiar  affiliation  for  the  tough  element  of 
the  rank  and  file,  possibly  because  he  had  spent  some 
years  before  the  war  as  one  of  them.  But  Buxton  had 
gone  on  leave,  and  his  first  lieutenant  was  giving 
the  troop  a  needed  straightening  out,  a  process  that 
involved  privates  Yell  and  Culligan  in  disciplinary 
methods  hitherto  untried,  and  led  to  their  deter- 
mination to  sever.,  for  the  third  or  fourth  time, 
probably,  the  bonds  that  welded  them  to  Uncle 
Sam.  No  vestige  of  doubt  remained  that  these  ruf- 
fians, or  one  of  them  at  least,  had  dealt  Maynard 
the  well-nigh  fatal  blow ;  and,  had  the  garrison  had 
its  say,  all  Fort  Russell  would  have  joined  in  the 
search  and  pursuit,  and  a  short  shrift  and  sudden 
cord  would  have  been  the  lot  of  both. 

And  so  it  happened  that  Nathalie  Baird  found 
herself  sorely  missing  the  sight  of  that  dashing 
rider,  and  the  sound  of  his  cheery,  ringing  voice  as 
she  took  her  afternoon  exercise  on  the  prairie,  and 
could  not  help  thinking  a  great  deal  about  him,  and 
feeling  very,  very  fall  of  interest  and  pity,  and  not  a 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  57 

little  desire  to  be  of  some  use  to  him  in  his  critical 
state.  She  could  not  help  wishing1  it  was  the 
proper — the  obvious  thing1  for  young  girls  like  her- 
self to  become  the  nurses  and  caretakers  of  warriors 
\vounded  in  the  line  of  duty.  They  did  such  things 
in  romance  and  fiction,  but  Nathalie  had  never  read 
Ivanhoe  and  the  host  of  stories  that  blessed  their 
hero  with  such  sweet  companionship  and  care.  She 
found  herself  wondering  very  much  what  Mr. 
Maynard's  sister  would  be  like,  and  wishing  she 
knew  and  could  go  to  see  her ;  and  ruminating  over 
all  these  things,  Nathalie's  step  was  slower,  her  eyes 
downcast,  and  her  round,  soft  cheek  lost  the  lively 
flush  that  buoyant  health  and  exercise  had  given  it. 
There  were  still  some  young  fellows  left  in  the 
garrison,  though  both  Dana  and  Hunter  had  gone 
with  the  field  column,  the  latter  in  Maynard's  place 
in  Wayne's  troop,  but  something  told  them  the  tall 
girl  at  the  Barrys  would  rather  be  alone  just  now, 
and  noting  her  pallor  and  the  wistful,  anxious  look 
with  which  the  blue  e}res  regarded  everybody  who 
had  just  come  out  from  town,  garrison  gossips 
began  to  talk,  especially  Mrs.  Turner. 

Then  Maynard's  sister  reached  Cheyenne,  was 
met  at  the  train  by  Major  and  Mrs.  Stannard  and 
the  adjutant,  and  escorted  at  once  to  her  brother's 
bedside  at  the  hotel,  where  a  communicating  room 


58  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

had  been  made  ready  for  her.  She  proved  to  be 
older  than  the  sufferer  by  several  years,  and  a 
woman  whom  grief,  anxiety  and  care  had  told  upon 
before  her  thirtieth  year.  She  was  a  trifle  cold  and 
undemonstrative,  too,  thought  the  trio  who  met  and 
welcomed  her,  but  every  allowance  was  made. 

"Some  of  us  will  be  in  every  day  until  Mr. 
Maynard  is  well  enough  to  be  moved,"  said  Mrs. 
Stannard,  "  so  you  must  be  sure  to  let  us  know  of 
anything  that  you  or  he  may  need  ;  and  when  you 
do  come  to  Russell  we  have  spare  rooms  in  our 
big  quarters,  and  you're  to  come  right  there,  both  of 
you."  Miss  Maynard  had  no  idea  how  kind  this  was 
of  Mrs.  Stannard.  She  did  not  realize  that  her 
brother  had  only  a  single  room  under  a  roof  that 
could  barely  cover  an  ordinary  parlor,  yet  that  had 
to  shelter  the  abodes  of  three  bachelor  subalterns — 
two  beside  himself.  But  Miss  Maynard  was  very, 
very  glad  to  go  to  the  Stannards  when,  five  days 
later,  the  doctors  and  nurses  lifted  her  soldier  boy 
into  the  yellow  ambulance,  trundled  him  slowly  out 
to  the  fort,  and  then  bore  him  upstairs  into  the 
major's  front  room.  April  had  come  by  that  time 
and  a  warm  south  wind,  as  has  been  said,  played 
for  several  days,  and  the  skies  were  murky,  the  air 
soft  and  unusually  humid,  and  Maynard  was  pres- 
ently allowed  to  sit  propped  up  in  bed,  while  Grace^ 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  59 

his  adoring  sister,  read  to  or  chatted  with  him,  and 
the  doctors  let  him  see  occasional  visitors.  Mrs. 
Stannard  was  there  by  the  hour,  and  the  stern 
colonel  had  called  and  had  been  most  kind  and 
thoughtful,  and,  so  far  from  finding  fault,  had 
praised  Maynard's  conduct,  and  still  the  patient  was 
not  happy. 

One  day  after  long  silence  he  turned  suddenly. 
"  Grace,  what  ladies  have  called  to  see  }rou  ?" 

"  "Why,  all  of  them,  I  suppose,  Ronald — ever  so 
many  anyway." 

"  Not  all,  because  Mrs.  Barry  cannot  leave  her 
room,  I  am  told,"  said  he. 

"  Xo,  very  true ;  but  she  sent  her  card  and  ex- 
plained it  all — Miss  Baird  brought  it." 

"  When  was  she  here  ?"  demanded  the  brother 
eagerly. 

"  Day  before  yesterday  and  again  to-day,  bringing 
some  delicious  jelly  Mrs.  Stannard  is  going  to  give 
you  by  and  by"  And  then  the  sister  saw  the  joy- 
light  burning  in  his  eyes,  and  the  faint  flush  that 
was  mounting  to  his  cheek,  and  her  face  took  on  an 
instant  shade  of  gray.  "  Why,  Ronald,"  she  said 
"  do  you  know  her  well  ?  You  like  her  ?" 

Then  she  could  ask  no  more,  for  all  at  once  there 
sprang  up  in  her  heart  the  question,  "  What  will  this 
mean  to  Gertrude  Bonner  ?" 


60  A  QAERISON  TANGLK. 

Kising  presently  and  without  a  word,  the  sister 
slowly  left  the  room  and  returned  to  her  own. 
Stopping  for  a  moment  to  bathe  her  temples  in 
cold  water,  she  then  stepped  to  the  dormer  window 
looking  out  over  the  bleak,  northward  prairie, 
and  pressed  her  forehead  upon  the  cool  pane. 
She  had  had  her  own  sorrows,  poor  girl.  Her 
own  love  had  left  her  after  a  brief,  joyous  furlough 
when  she  was  but  eighteen,  and  rejoined  his 
regiment  just  in  time  for  Five  Forks.  He  had 
fought  gallantly  in  earlier  engagements ;  had  won 
promotion,  and  come  home  sorely  wounded  to  be 
wooed  back  to  health  and  strength  among  the 
kindly  people  of  their  Mohawk  village;  had  re- 
turned to  duty  for  the  last  campaign  full  of  hope, 
happiness,  love  of  country,  and  of  her,  and  the 
brief  glory  of  that  campaign  was  indeed  his  last. 
The  joy  of  the  news  of  Lee's  surrender  was 
stifled  throughout  the  narrowing  valley  at  Little 
Falls  by  the  telegram  that  briefly  told  them 
Captain  Kalph  Bonner  was  mortally  wounded  at 
Sailor's  Creek.  Grace  Maynard's  life  from  that 
time  on  was  taken  up  in  devotion  to  her  own 
mother  and  to  his,  and  when  they,  too,  were 
called  from  earth  she  had  still  left  to  nurse,  her 
aging  father,  himself  a  wounded  veteran  of  the 
war,  and  to  rear  and  love  were  her  boy  brother 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  61 

Ronald  and  "his"  girl  sister  Gertrude.  The 
father's  one  ambition  was  for  his  son — that  he 
might  be  educated  at  West  Point  and  commissioned 
in  the  army.  The  sister's  main  hope  had  been  that 
when  Ronald  came  back  to  them,  an  officer,  he 
might  look  with  loving  eyes  upon  the  shy  little 
village  girl,  who  as  laughing,  romping  maiden  had 
been  the  playmate  and  tease  of  his  early  boyhood. 
He  had  looked  kindly,  even  affectionately  upon  her, 
but  with  the  same  serene  fondness  with  which  he 
regarded  his  sister,  and  then  had  gone  on  his  way, 
after  weeks  of  long  talk  and  counsel  with  the  father, 
to  join  his  regiment  in  far  Wyoming. 

In  every  letter  Grace  had  written  there  was 
mention  of  Gertrude,  how  lovely  she  had  grown, 
how  good  and  devoted  she  was  to  father,  how  help- 
ful and  attentive  to  him,  "and  then  always  so  eager 
to  hear  about  you,"  and  now  was  all  her  planning 
to  go  for  naught?  Was  it  possible  that  her  hero 
brother,  who  had  been  her  care  as  well  as  pride  for 
years,  now  that  he  was  free  to  choose  would  turn 
from  the  fond  and  faithful  little  heart  that  was 
beating  for  him  there  at  home  and  dower  this  un- 
known New  England  girl  with  the  wealth  of  his 
first  love  ?  At  the  first  meeting  Grace  had  noted 
her  beauty,  the  radiant  color  that  so  quickly  came 
and  went  and  came  again,  but  other  women  had 


62  A   GARRISON  TANGLE. 

entered  upon  their  interview,  and  Miss  Baird  had 
presently  retired.  The  second  time  she  came  Mrs. 
Stannard  was  there,  and  several  callers,  and  Grace 
had  had  but  few  words  with  her  shy  visitor,  but 
never  had  she  thought  of  this  as  a  possibility.  They 
spoke  of  her  as  Mrs.  Barry's  companion,  a  very  re- 
tiring, not  to  say  repellent  young  person,  who  was 
so  painfully  diffident  and  austere  that  few  of  their 
number  had  grown  to  know  her  at  all.  Some  be- 
lieved her  to  be  a  sort  of  ward  of  Mrs.  Barry's, 
though  that  was  denied.  The  subject  had  had  little 
interest  before ;  now  it  became  imbued  with  a  some- 
thing stronger  than  fascination.  Grace  Maynard 
felt  that  she  could  not  too  soon  learn  all  that  was 
to  be  learned  of  this  dangerous  girl,  and  even  as  she 
stood  and  planned  and  pondered,  out  over  the  open 
prairie,  picking  her  way  among  the  little  pools  and 
rapidly  dwindling  drifts,  stooping  in  places  as 
though  to  pluck  the  tiny  white  flowerets  that  dotted 
the  surface  with  the  first  soft  sunshine  and  southerly 
breeze,  there  strolled  Nathalie  Baird.  She  had 
just  emerged  from  behind  the  brown  bulk  of  the 
old  hospital.  She  was  well-nigh  four  hundred  yards 
away,  but  Grace  Maynard  knew  her  at  a  glance 
and  watched  her — watched  and  studied  and  marked 
her  every  move  until  she  was  a  mere  speck  far  out 
toward  the  foothills,  and  then,  when  at  last  the 


TANGLE.  fi3 

watcher  would  have  turned  away,  that  speck  sud- 
denly became  two. 

Mrs.  Stannard,  busy  about  her  household  duties 
a  moment  later  heard  Miss  Maynard  hurrying-  down- 
stairs, and  was  surprised  to  see  her  running-  up  again 
with  the  major's  field  glasses  in  her  hand. 

"is  anything  wanted?  Can  I  help  you  in  any 
way?'*  she  called. 

But  there  was  no  answer. 


64  A   GARRISON  TANGL&. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THAT  evening  Mrs.  Turner,  with  her  chum,  Mrs 
Raymond,  "  hunting  in  couples"  as  of  old,  carne  to 
call  again  at  the  Stannards,  prepared  to  be  civil  to 
Mr.  Maynard's  sister.  With  Maynard  confined  to 
his  bed,  and  most  of  the  other  young  men  off  with 
Barry  on  a  winter  campaign,  time  was  hanging 
heavily  on  Mrs.  Turner's  hands,  and  one  thing  she 
could  not  do  was  sit  at  home  alone,  even,  as  she 
said,  "when  the  captain  was  there."  The  Stan- 
nards' little  parlor  was  bright  and  cheerful,  but  the 
master  of  the  house  was  over  at  the  colonel's  just 
then,  talking  of  the  probabilities  of  Barry's  needing 
help,  and  growling  not  a  little  that  he  was  held  in 
leash  when  he  longed  to  be  on  the  war  path. 
Whether  the  Cheyennes  had  heard  of  the  prepara- 
tions to  head  them  off,  and  were  heeding  them,  no 
officer  could  say.  At  all  events  the  threatened  out- 
break had  not  come  to  pass,  but  the  troops  from 
Leavenworth  and  Riley  were  rapidly  closing  on  the 
reservation,  while,  farther  to  the  north,  squadrons 
from  McPherson  and  Russell  had  been  sent  to  the 
field. 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  65 

Mrs.  Stannard  came  in  to  greet  her  guests,  blithe 
and  smiling,  and  presently  Miss  Maynard  was  heard 
descending  the  stairs.  She  entered,  looking  as 
prim  and  impassive  as  ever,  yet  fancying  she  was 
receiving  the  visitors  with  all  cordiality.  These 
latter  began,  at  once,  of  course,  with  inquiries  for 
the  invalid,  accompanying  them  with  every  assur 
ance  of  sympathetic  interest,  and  Miss  Maynard 
was  pleased  to  say  that  he  had  had  a  very  comfort- 
able day  and  had  vastly  enjoyed  the  warm  tea  Mrs. 
Stannard  had  made  for  him  half  an  hour  since.  To 
refer  to  it  or  to  any  edible  or  potable  as  hot  would 
have  been  a  crass  violation  of  Miss  Maynard's  tenets 
as  to  what  was  delicate  and  refined  in  speech.  She 
experienced  something  akin  to  a  shock  on  hearing 
an  officer  of  the  regular  army,  her  burly  host,  im- 
portune his  smiling  wife  to  order  more  hot  buck- 
wheats, for  village  ethics  in  this  behalf,  first  applied 
by  imported  schoolma'ams  to  purely  personal  con- 
ditions— as  when  they  gently  rebuked  the  maidens 
running  in  from  the  game  of  tag  at  recess  and  say- 
ing "  I'm  so  hot" — had  gradually  extended  to  a 
provincial  embargo  against  the  adjective  on  any 
terms.  All  the  same  "  warm"  meant  "  hot"  when 
applied  to  toast  and  tea,  and  Mrs.  Turner  took  the 
word,  as  say  the  French,  and  bustled  briskly  into 
conversation. 


gg  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

"  Ah,  yes,  we  all  know  how  good  Mrs.  Stannard's 
tea  is.  My  cook  never  can  get  it  like  hers,  but  just 
as  soon  as  Mr.  Maynard's  able  to  eat  anything  I'll 
be  too  happy  to  bring  him  some  dainties  myself. 
Does  he  like  jelly  ?" 

"  Very  much,"  answered  Miss  Maynard,  with  a 
somewhat  astringent  smile.  "  His  appetite  is  com- 
ing back  and  he  wants  to  eat  everything."  But 
she  made  no  mention  of  the  jelly  he  had  eaten  and 
rejoiced  in  only  an  hour  before,  far  more  than  he 
did  Mrs.  Stannard's  tea,  so  it  was  the  latter  who 
spoke. 

"  Miss  Baird  brought  him  some  delicious  jelly  this 
afternoon,"  she  announced,  "  and  it  was  good  to  see 
how  he  enjoyed  it." 

"  Yes,  but  it  was  Mrs.  Barry  not  Miss  Baird  who 
was  the  donor,"  quickly  interposed  Miss  Maynard. 
"  Miss  Baird  was  merely  the  bearer,  though  I  am 
sure  she  was  very  kind,  and  I  am  very  grateful  to 
her." 

It  was  impossible  that  such  veteran  society  women 
as  their  visitors  should  not  note  the  almost  intense 
eagerness  with  which  Miss  Maynard  seemed  to  desire 
to  impress  them  with  her  theory  that  Miss  Baird 
was  in  nowise  connected  with  the  preparation  of 
the  jelly  for  her  invalid  brother.  A  quick  glance 
was  exchanged,  but  no  comment  made ;  indeed  there 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  07 

was  no  time,  for  the  major's  voice  and  step  were 
heard  at  the  door  as  he  came  noisily  into  the  hall, 
ushering  the  adjutant  and  a  subaltern  or  two  who 
had  come  to  inquire  for  Maynard  and  to  pay  their 
respects  to  the  ladies.  They  flocked  into  the  little 
army  parlor  with  the  easy  confidence  of  comrades 
sure  of  welcome,  and  dropped  into  seats  wherever 
they  could  find  them,  even  the  piano  stool  bearing 
its  share,  and  the  chat  and  laughter  rippled  on — 
Miss  Maynard  speedily  relapsing  into  silence  and 
study  of  the  faces  about  her  with  deep  interest,  yet 
with  the  same  impassive,  almost  solemn  visage — old 
Stannard  beaming  on  the  party  from  the  doorway 
where  he  stood  in  his  habitual  off-duty  attitude, 
hands  deep  in  trousers'  pockets  and  legs  straddled 
apart  as  though  long  years  in  saddle  had  rendered 
it  impossible  to  lounge  in  any  other  pose.  Pres- 
ently he  turned  and  tiptoed  up  the  narrow  stairway, 
saying  herd  go  and  have  a  peep  at  Maynard,  who 
was  reported  half  awake,  half  dozing,  and  pretend- 
ing to  read. 

"  Queer  we  don't  hear  a  word  from  Barry,"  said 
one  of  the  younger  officers,  flushing  a  bit  as  he 
caught  the  adjutant's  baleful  eye  glowering  at  him 
for  the  omission  of  Barry's  title  at  the  hands  of  one 
so  many  years  his  junior.  "  "We  dropped  in  there," 
he  plunged  ahead,  in  nervous  effort  to  cover  the 


68  A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  • 

solecism,  "  hoping  to  get  some  news,  but  Mrs.  Barry 
hadn't  had  a  line  for  two  days." 

"Did  you  see  her,  Mr.  Graham?"  queried  Mrs. 
Stannard,  "  or  did  Miss  Baird  receive  you  ?" 

"  We  saw  her.  She  was  lying  on  her  couch  be- 
fore the  parlor  fire.  Mrs.  Ray  was  with  her.  "We 
didn't  see  Miss  Baird."  And  then  young  Graham 
became  suddenly  aware  that  the  other  three  women 
had  not  only  discontinued  chat,  but  were  listening 
to  him  and  not  to  the  other  men.  It  embarrassed 
him  still  the  more.  "  She  wasn't  feeling  very  well, 
Mrs.  Barry  said.  She  came  home  from  her  walk 
rather  later  than  usual  and  had  to  go  to  her  room." 

"  I  hope  Miss  Baird  is  not  going  to  be  ill,"  said 
Mrs.  Stannard  anxiously.  "  She  has  been  looking 
a  little  pale  of  late,"  and  Mrs.  Stannard  did  not  sew 
how  intently  Miss  Maynard  was  eying  her  as  she 
spoke. 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  understand  that  anything  serious 
was  the  matter,  only  she^didn't  come  down  to  tea, 
and  Mrs.  Ray  was  taking  her  place  temporarily." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  Every  one  present 
except  Miss  Maynard  was  aware  of  her  brother's 
manifest  devotion  to  Nathalie  Baird  for  two  weeks 
previous  to  his  serious  adventure  in  town,  and  each 
and  every  one  was  wondering  how  much  the  young 
girl's  indisposition  might  be  clue  to  anxiety  on  his 
account.  Mrs,  Turner  was  the  first  to  speak : 


A  &ARRI80N  TANGLE.  69 

very  queer  that  she  should  be  ill,  don't  you 
think  so  ?"  she  queried,  true  to  her  practice  of  com- 
mitting her  hearer  to  some  expression  indicative  of 
support  of  —  Mrs.  Turner's  views  and  opinions. 

"  Very  queer,"  murmured  Mrs.  Raymond,  glanc- 
ing furtr  <ely  at  Miss  Maynard,  whose  face,  pale  and 
patient,  still  gave  no  sign. 

"  Oh,  I  —  I  don't  suppose  it's  anything  serious," 
interposed  Lieutenant  "Walker  ;  "  I  met  her  near  the 
gate  as  she  was  coming  in.  She  seemed  in  a  hurry, 
and  I  thought  she  looked  more  as  she  used  to  when 
I  first  saw  her  up  at  Winthrop  when  I  was  there  on 
court-martial  duty.  She  was  looking  mighty  pretty 
last  week,  but  seems  to  have  kind  of  broken  up 
recently.  She  hardly  noticed  me  at  all  when  she 
went  by." 

"  Why,  how  strange,"  said  Mrs.  Turner.  "  Well, 
we  must  be  going.  We've  been  here  long  enough 
to  make  you  all  think  we'd  come  to  spend  the  night. 
Miss  Maynard,"  she  continued,  rising  and  turning 
a  deaf  ear  to  Mrs.  Stannard's  polite  expostulations 
and  assurances  that  they  had  been  in  the  house 
barely  ten  minutes,  "  do  come  and  see  me  as  soon  as 
you're  ablo  to  run  about.  I  declare  I  don't  see 
nowadays,  and  we  all  miss  Mr.  Maynard 


To    «rtaich  Mrs.  Raymond  murmured  a  purring 


70  A  GARRISON   TANGLE. 

second,  and  then  after  various  other  farewells,  and 
at  the  close  of  five  minutes  devoted  to  these  leave- 
takings,  the  two  ladies  made  their  exit,  declining  for 
a  wonder  the  escort  of  any  of  the  gallants  present. 
Once  outside,  and  the  door  closed,  Mis.  Turner 
turned  to  her  companion  : 

"Do  you  think  we  can  venture  in  ?  It  isn't  nine 
yet.  We  can  say  we  came  to  help,  as  we'd  heard 
Miss  Baird  was  ill,  you  know." 

Mrs.  Raymond  hesitated.  "  I  haven't  been  there, 
except  to  call  formally,  since  the  day  she  came.  I'm 
afraid  it  would  be  too — thin." 

But  Mrs.  Turner  was  a  leader  of  women  when 
they  wanted  to  be  led,  and  her  motion  prevailed. 
Mrs.  Barry  on  her  sofa  and  Mrs.  Ray  bending  over 
her,  were  in  earnest  conversation  when  the  two 
were  ushered  in. 

And  this  was  how  it  happened  that  Mrs.  Turner 
herself  should  be  the  bearer  of  an  important  and 
exciting  piece  of  news  back  to  the  Stannards'  parlor 
not  fifteen  minutes  later.  She  came  rushing  in 
without  even  stopping  to  ring. 

"  What  do  you  think,"  she  cried.  "  Colonel 
Atherton's  got  a  despatch  from  headquarters  and 
another  from  Major  Barry.  The  Indians  have 
broken  loose.  The  whole  command  may  have  to 
go.  He  came  to  see  her  right  after  they  reached 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  71 

him  and  he's  going-  over  to  the  office  now.  You'll 
all  be  wanted,"  she  continued,  with  a  comprehensive 
glance  at  the  boys.  The  adjutant  edged  at  once  to 
the  door.  Stannard's  footfalls  were  heard  overhead 
as  he  left  Maynard's  bedside  and  hastened  to  the 
stairs. 

"  What's  that  ?  What's  the  news  ?"  he  cried,  as 
he  came  hurriedly  down,  and  again  Mrs.  Turner  had 
the  comfort  of  holding  the  floor  and  the  absorbed 
attention  of  her  auditors  for  half  a  minute,  and 
then,  loud,  ringing,  and  imperative,  the  cavalry 
trumpet  out  upon  the  parade  broke  up  the  gather- 
ing with  the  stirring  summons  of  "  Officers'  Call." 
Only  the  women  were  left  to  discuss  the  situation, 
and  Miss  Maynard  for  the  moment  forgot  her 
vivid  interest  in  all  that  had  been  said  or  implied 
regarding  Nathalie  Baird  in  this  her  first  ex- 
perience with  sudden  orders  for  the  field — an  old- 
time  and  all  too  familiar  episode  in  garrison  life 
as  it  was  led  a  score  of  years  ago. 

That  night  the  lanterns  were  dancing  about  the 
barracks  and  quarters  long  after  the  usual  hour  for 
"  taps,"  and  the  officers  and  men  of  Stannard's  bat- 
tallion  were  busily  at  work  packing  and  preparing 
for  the  campaign.  The  special  trains  ordered  to 
transport  tnem  to  North  Platte,  far  to  the  east,  from 
which  point  they  could  most  easily  reach  the  old 


72  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

trail  of  the  Cheyennes  when  traveling  between  the 
northern  and  southern  villages  of  the  tribe,  v/erc  tc 
be  in  readiness  with  the  dawn  of  the  Doming  day, 
and  many  a  man,  many  a  woman  krtp;<v  no  wink  of 
sleep  the  live-long  hours  that  intervened.  And  yet 
Mrs.  Stannard  had  found  titie,  in  the  midst  of  all 
she  had  to  do  for  her  major's  mess-chest,  to  run 
over  to  see  that  Mrs.  Barry  lacked  no  comfort. 
Mrs.  Kay,  of  course,  had  had  to  hasten  home  ;  but 
Miss  Baird  was  on  duty  with  her  invalid  again — 
silent,  helpful,  thoughtful  as  ever,  yet  seeming,  as 
Mrs.  Stannard  could  not  help  but  see,  very  far  from 
well.  There  was  a  strange,  hopeless,  harassed,  ap- 
pealing look  about  the  eyes,  that  were  but  recently 
so  placidly  blue  and  tender,  that  the  loving-hearted 
army  woman  was  touched  and  troubled  to  see.  'She 
was  the  one  woman  in  the  — th  in  those  days  to 
whom  all  the  youngsters  confided  their  [troubles, 
hopes,  or  fears.  She  was  the  repository  of  the  cher- 
ished secrets  of  half  the  garrison — of  men  and  women 
both.  She  was  the  object  of  the  sublime  envy  of 
other  officers'  wives,  because  of  the  implicit  trust 
placed  in  her  silence  and  discretion,  and  the  un- 
bounded respect  felt  for  her  opinion.  She  had  been 
arbitrator  in  many  a  family  difference  in  the  old 
days,  but  of  late  years  had  declined  to  serve — the 
climate  of  Arizona,  where  the  — th  had  spent  four 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  73 

years  before  returning  to  the  plains,  having  proved 
far  too  arid  and  peppery,  and  therefore  so  temper- 
trying  that  even  her  mediation  had  been  occasionally 
rejected.  But  envy  her  as  they  might,  and  deplore 
the  partiality  and  bad  judgment  of  the  young  offi- 
cers as  they  might,  the  other  matrons  of  the  regi- 
ment could  not  help  loving  and  admiring  Mrs.  Stan- 
nard,  and  all  this  Miss  Baird  had  heard  in  one  form 
or  another  time  and  again. 

Was  it  fancy,  then?  thought  Mrs.  Stannard,  as 
she  sat  by  the  invalid's  bedside.  "Was  she  mistaken 
in  thinking  that  every  little  while,  as  Nathalie  flit- 
ted about  the  room,  she  caught  the  girl's  eyes  seek- 
ing hers  with  such  a  look  of  distress  and  appeal  in, 
their  blue  depths  that  it  filled  her  with  longing  to 
take  the  motherless  child  to  her  heart  and  bid  her 
pour  out  the  torrent  of  her  sorrows,  and  find  at 
least  sympathy  and  comfort,  if  not  immediate  relief. 

And  yet  Nathalie  fled  when  Mrs.  Stannard's 
swimming  eyes  betrayed  the  depths  of  her  interest 
as  she  rose  to  go. 

"  We  shall  both  be  widowed  for  the  time  being," 
she  said,  as  she  bent  over  Mrs.  Barry's  pillow,  "  and 
I  hope  you  will  let  me  come  in  every  day  and  read 
to  you.  I  fear  Miss  Baird  isn't  quite  as  strong  as 
we  could  wish.  She  looks  very  fragile  to-night." 

For  answer  Mrs.  Barry  first   placed  her  finger  on 


74  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

ter  lips,  then  by  an  inquiring  glance  seemed  to  say, 
"  Is  she  gone  ?"  and  then  aloud,  "  "Would  you  mind 
closing  the  door  ?" 

Softly  Mrs.  Stannard  stepped  thither,  glanced 
into  the  adjoining  room  and  saw  that  it  was  empty, 
shut  the  door  and  came  back  to  the  bedside.  Mrs. 
Barry  took  her  visitor's  hand.  "Mrs.  Stannard," 
said  she,  "  like  everybody  else  in  the  regiment,  I 
come  to  you  when  troubled,  and  I'm  sorely  troubled 
about  Nathalie.  You  know,  do  you  not,  how  I 
came  to  find  her  ?  No  ?  Well,  I  haven't  told  it  as 
a  rule.  Her  father  had  served  on  the  same  division 
staff  with  Major  Barry  during  the  war,  and  a  strong 
friendship  grew  up  between  them.  When  Captain 
Baird  was  killed,  his  brother-in-law  came  all  the 
way  to  Virginia  after  bis  body,  and  Major  Barry 
was  allowed  to  go  with  it  as  far  as  Washington,  and 
there  he  met  this  gentleman,  Nathalie's  uncle  by 
marriage.  He  impressed  Major  Barry  as  being  a 
sturdy,  warm-hearted  fellow  who  would  do  all  he 
could  for  the  widow  and  orphan,  especially  for  this 
little  girl  who  was  named,  as  Nathalie  has  only 
recently  told  me,  for  his  own  wife.  I  wondered 
how  sh«  came  by  that  name,  but  it  seems  that  this 
was  Mrs.  Baird's  younger  and  favorite  sister.  Al- 
ready, however,  this  gentleman  had  four  children  of 
his  own,  and  could  not  well  provide  for  more.  A 


A  GARRISON  TANGLJf.  75 

desultory  correspondence  was  kept  up  for  awhile 
and  then  it  dropped  off,  but  in  1876  this  Mr.  Will- 
iams wrote  that  his  niece  was  practically  destitute, 
that  his  own  business  was  completely  ruined,  and  he 
begged  us  to  do  something  for  her,  saying  that  she 
was  a  good,  pure-minded,  lovely  girl,  and  intimating 
that  he  would  have  been  only  too  thankful  had 
heaven  blessed  him  with  such  children. 

So  the  major  went  there  when  East  on  leave,  and 
she  has  been  with  us  for  a  year  now,  and  she  is 
lovely  and  was  content  and  happy  until  just  a  few 
days  ago.  I  watched  her  narrowly  at  the  time  of 
Mr.  Maynard's  mishap,  half  expecting  her  to  be 
greatly  shocked  and  distressed.  Shocked  she  was, 
and  measurably  distressed,  but  not  to  the  extent  I 
had  expected.  This  change  in  her  has  not  come 
through  him.  She  has  suddenly  met  some  serious 
mental  strain,  and  it  is  the  more  trying  because  she 
cannot  tell  or  will  not  tell  what  it  is.  She  begs  me 
not  to  ask  any  more,  but  sometimes,"  and  here 
Mrs.  Barry  looked  appealingly  up  into  the  gentle 
face  of  her  friend,  "  sometimes  I  feel  sure  she  would 
confide  in  you,  and  you  could  help  her.  Will 
you?" 

"  Indeed  I  will  if  she  will  let  me,"  was  the  warm- 
hearted reply.  "Now  I  must  get  back  to  Major 
Stannard  or  he'll  be  seeking  for  me  and  saying 


7tf  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

dreadful   things  in  Apache.     To-morrow  morning 
I'll  come  to  you  again." 

An  hour  later  Nathalie  Baird,  kneeling  by  the 
bedside  of  her  friend  and  protector,  gazed  long  and 
earnestly  into  the  placid  face,  bent  her  ear  to  listen  to 
the  gentle,  measured  breathing  as  though  to  assure 
herself  that  the  sleep  was  sound  ;  then  slowly,  cau- 
tiously, noiselessly  rose  to  her  feet,  extinguished  the 
lamp,  and  set  the  night  light  on  the  floor,  slipped 
into  the  dimly  lighted  front  room,  and  thence  to  the 
hall.  There,  taking  a  hooded  cloak  from  a  peg,  she 
as  noiselessly  opened  the  front  door,  peered  up  and 
down  the  row,  noted  the  flitting  lights  at  the  bar- 
racks, and  the  sound  of  busy  preparation,  hastily 
withdrew  a  moment  as  an  officer's  orderly,  blanket 
and  robe-laden,  came  laboring  down  the  line,  then, 
once  more  glancing  out,  stepped  softly  forth  upon 
the  piazza  and,  huddling  within  the  warm  folds  of 
her  cloak,  tiptoed  around  the  corner  of  the  house 
and  through  the  dark  passage  leading  to  the  spacious 
yard  that  lay  to  the  north.  The  servants  had  long 
since  retired  to  their  little  rooms  in  the  annex  at 
the  rear,  but  the  girl  trembled  as  she  passed  their 
windows,  yet  pressed  resolutely  on,  and  presently, 
clearing  the  wooden  buildings,  was  swallowed  up  in 
the  blackness  of  the  cloud-covered  night. 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  77 


CHAPTER  VL 

MRS.  RAYMOND  was  growing  jealous.  For  years, 
despite  those  occasional  tiffs  and  spats  with  which 
feminine  intimacies  are  so  frequently  diversified,  she 
had  been  Fanny  Turner's  closest  friend.  There  had 
been  occasions  in  the  lives  of  both  when  neither  had 
spoken  to  the  other  forasmuch  as  forty-eight  hours, 
and  when  neither  believed  it  possible  for  her  ever 
to  speak  to  the  other  again.  In  this  suspension  of 
diplomatic  and  personal  relations,  however,  no  em- 
bargo existed  as  to  language  descriptive  of  each 
other's  faults,  foibles  or  falsifications.  What  the 
two  ladies  failed  to  say  to  was  more  than  compen- 
sated by  what  they  said  of  each  other.  Notwith- 
standing which  disturbance  of  the  atmospheric  con- 
ditions in  the  fair  sky  of  their  friendship,  the 
intimacy  lived  and  throve — was  even  strengthened 
if  not  purified  by  the  brief  flashings  of  such  summer 
lightnings  and  the  reverberations  of  vocal  thunder 
Indeed  it  would  be  hard  to  say  where  in  all  the 
— th  either  lady  could  have  found  an  intimate  save 
in  the  other,  for  the  maids  and  matrons  then  torn- 


78  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

posing  the  social  element  of  the  regiment  had 
learned  wisdom  in  their  generation — were  under 
the  influence  and  guidance  of  such  pure  spirits  as 
Mrs.  Stannard,  Mrs.  Barry,  Mrs.  Freeman,  and  Mrs. 
Ray,  so  that  even  domestic  and  social  terrors  like 
Mrs.  Wilkins  had  been  tamed  into  a  certain  fealty 
to  the  new  creed  expounded  by  them,  and  many  a 
man,  many  a  woman,  had  remarked  that  "  the  — th 
was  a  mighty  different  regiment  from  what  it  used 
to  be  in  the  days  of  Lady  Pelham  and  Arizona." 

It  was  a  better  regiment  in  every  way,  much  as 
they  had  all  loved  "  Old  Catnip,"  as  they  called  the 
colonel  who  led  them  in  the  days  of  their  exile,  but 
who,  lucklessly,  was  too  often  and  disastrously  led 
by  his  wife.  The  new  commander,  like  the  modern 
Tommy  Atkins,  was  "  every  inch  a  soldier  and 
every  inch  a  man,"  and  though  Mrs.  Atherton 
loved  a  cozy  chat  with  her  cronies  as  much  as  any 
woman  alive,  she  had  lived  and  moved  and  had  her 
being  in  wider  social  circles  too  long  not  to  have 
learned  the  golden  rule  of  silence.  Several  objec- 
tionables  had  been  eliminated  in  the  course  of  years, 
some  by  transfer  to  other  arms  of  the  service,  be  it 
understood,  one  or  two  to  other  spheres,  and  still 
Buxton  lingered  among  the  men  and  Mrs.  Turner 
ampng  the  women,  and  if  ever  there  lived  a  lady 
blessed  with  unbounded  confidence  in  the  infallibil- 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  79 

ity  of  her  opinions  and  the  unerring  rectitude  of  her 
intentions,  it  was  that  same  Mrs.  Frances  Turner. 

Other  women  there  were,  of  course,  to  circulate 
her  views ;  but  in  bold,  inspiring  originality  of  con- 
ception there  was  none  to  equal  her.  Mrs.  Turner 
might  not  be  alone  as  adisburserof  regimental  gossip, 
but,  as  Lieutenant  Blake  was  heard  to  say,  she  could 
start  more  in  a  minute  than  could  be  stopped  in  a 
month. 

And  now  Mrs.  Raymond  was  actually  disturbed 
and  jealous  because  of  a  new,  sudden  and  mysterious 
intimacy  that  had  sprung  up  between  the  friend  of 
her  bosom  and  the  hitherto  impassive  and  unap- 
proachable Miss  Maynard.  From  meeting  only 
formally  and  semi-occasionally  there  had  developed 
an  unlocked  for  and  apparently  unquenchable  desire 
for  each  other's  company,  and  where  Mrs.  Turner 
used  to  be  dropping  in  on  Mrs.  Raymond  any 
morning  after  her  toilet  was  completed  for  the  day, 
she  had  taken  to  bustling  by  en  route  to  Mrs.  Stan- 
nard's,  never  so  much  as  stopping  at  the  Raymonds 
to  explain  the  meaning  of  her  haste;  and  there  ii? 
Mrs.  Stannard's  parlor,  or  in  solemn  promenade 
along  the  walk,  did  Mrs.  Turner  and  her  new-found 
friend  spend  hours  in  close  and  confidential  com- 
munion, the  object  of  which  was  a  mystery  to  Mrs. 
Raymond,  not  to  mention  the  rest  of  RusselL 


80  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

Meantime  Lieutenant  Maynard  AYas  mending  fast 
and  needing  little  nursing.  Therefore  was  his  sister 
at  liberty  to  seek  more  and  more  the  stimulant 
and  exhilaration  of  the  open.  air.  Therefore,  too, 
was  it  suggested  by  Mrs.  Raymond  that  the  neces- 
sity of  her  remaining  a  burden  on  her  brother  and 
the  Stannards  no  longer  existed.  Stannard  and  his 
stanch  battalion  had  gone.  The  populace  of  Russell 
was  now  made  up  mainly  of  the  temporarily 
widowed  and  fatherless,  the  invalids  and  the  band. 
A  small  squad  had  been  left  from  each  troop  to 
take  care  of  the  stables,  quarters  and  corrals,  and 
from  these  the  post  quartermaster  detailed  night 
watchmen  to  patrol  the  garrison  pending  the  com- 
ing of  an  infantry  company.  The  colonel  and 
adjutant,  too,  had  taken  the  field  one  train  ahead 
of  Stannard's.  Mrs.  Atherton  had  gone  in  to  visit 
relatives  in  Chicago,  and,  when  they  could  laugh  at 
all,  the  ladies  were  asking  each  other  which  of  their 
elders  was  really  in  temporary  command  of  the 
camp,  or  did  the  surgeon,  chaplain  and  quarter- 
master deserve  consideration. 

Meantime  poor  Maynard  was  fuming  and  fretting 
in  his  pretty  room,  devotedly  nursed,  carefully  at- 
tended and  prescribed  for,  but  with  every  day  be- 
coming more  irascible  and  unreasonable.  It  was 
his  first  year  with  the  regiment,  be  it  remembered, 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE  81 

and  the  idea  that  it  should  be  on  the  warpath  and 
he  mewling  in  bed,  was  intolerable.  Yet  the  doctor 
gravely  told  him  he  could  not  ride  without  cer- 
tainty of  reopening  his  wound  and  endangering  his 
life.  Maynard  could  not  believe  it.  Both  Mrs. 
Stannard  and  his  sister  strove  to  read  to  him,  but 
he  would  not  listen.  He  wanted  all  the  papers 
that  had  news  of  the  field  columns,  but  no  other 
subject  in  their  pages  interested  him  in  the  least. 
There  was  one  subject  much  nearer  home  to  which 
he  would  have  given  ear  with  more  than  avidity, 
but  on  this  subject  he  could  not  talk,  and  Mrs.  Stan- 
nard and  his  sister  would  not  talk  to  him.  He 
longed  for  daily  news  of  Nathalie  Baird,  and  got 
none.  She  had  even  ceased  her  visits  to  the  house. 
Ever  since  the  night  of  her  first  apparent  illness 
—the  night  that  orders  came  for  Stannard's  men 
to  move,  she  had  been  drooping  visibly,  and  Mrs. 
Barry  was  sore  distressed.  No  more  did  Nathalie 
take  her  long,  exhilarating  walks  upon  the  open 
prairie.  She  stole  forth  on  sunshiny  days  at  Mrs. 
Barry's  urging,  and  went  timidly  up  and  down  the 
long  walk  within  the  sentry  lines,  but  never  neared 
the  gate  at  the  east  or  the  open  roadway  that  passed 
out  to  the  westward  beyond  the  old  headquarters 
building.  She  seemed  to  shrink  from  observation 
even,  then.  She  seemed  reluctant  to  meet  or  talk  with 


83  A  GARHISON  TANGLE. 

the  many  kind  and  sympathetic  women  who  would 
have  welcomed  her  to  their  firesides  when  the  swift 
gales  burst  upon  them  from  the  mountain  pass  to  the 
northwest,  or  to  their  sunshiny  piazzas  on  the  rare 
afternoons  when  soft  breezes  blew  from  the  Colo- 
rado foothills,  and  the  band  played  sweet  melodies, 
and  the  children  frolicked  merrily  out  on  the  broad 
level  of-  the  parade.  Shy  she  had  ever  seemed  to 
be,  but  not  startled  and  afraid  as  now,  and  Mrs. 
Stannard,  generally  self-contained  and  self-reliant, 
had  even  taken  counsel  with  Mesdames  Kay  and  Trus< 
cott,  two  young  matrons  she  much  approved  of,  and 
invoked  their  aid  in  the  good  work  of  banishing  the 
evil  spirit  that  had  darkened  the  day-dreams  of  this 
strange  New  England  girl.  Both  were  ready  and 
willing  to  help  in  any  way,  yet  neither  could  suggest 
a  line  of  operation.  The  girl  seemed  so  utterly  un- 
approachable. Mrs.  Truscott  had  paraded  Baby 
Jack  for  Miss  Baird's  inspection,  and  expected  her 
to  become  a  slave  to  that  conquering  hero's  fas- 
cinations as  did  other  women,  old  and  young,  but 
Miss  Baird  had  passed  his  little  highness  by  with 
scant  recognition  the  very  next  time  she  met  him, 
and  an  injured  and  indignant  nurse  was  not  slow  to 
take  the  tidings  home.  Mrs.  Ray  had  bidden  her 
to  luncheon  or  tea,  or  both,  always  with  the  same 
result.  Nathalie  could  not  leave,  she  said,  her  in- 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE,  83 

valid  at  home  except  for  the  walk  she  took  each 
day.  Mrs.  Stannard  had  sought,  gently  and  kindly, 
to  win  the  confidence  of  the  girl,  but  Nathalie 
seemed  to  divine  her  object  and  fled  from  her  in 
nervous  alarm.  "  It  is  a  most  uncanny^  thing,"  said 
Mrs.  Stannard  to  Nathalie's  friend  and  protector. 
"I  never  met  a  girl  of  her  years  so  utterly  set 
against  her  kind."  There  was  a  lovely  young  girl 
often  visiting  at  the  Freemans  then — a  Miss  Nannie 
Bryan,  who  was  freshness,  vivacity  and  frankness 
personified,  and  these  schemers  sought  to  induce  her 
to  cultivate  Miss  Baird,  but  that  fell  through,  for 
Nan's  outspoken,  open-hearted  manner  seemed  to 
be  a  reproach  in  Nathalie's  eyes — she  who  would 
not  or  could  not  confide  in  anybody. 

"  She  is  the  loneliest  girl  in  Wyoming,"  said  Mrs. 
Barry,  'despairingly,  to  a  friend,  one  sunny  after- 
noon. "  Ah,  well,"  was  the  reassuring  reply,  "  Mr. 
Maynard  is  to  be  allowed  to  sit  up  in  the  sunshine 
presently,  and  then  you'll  see  how  soon  she  flutters 
to  his  side." 

And  they  did  see.  She  came  out  from  the  Barrys 
for  her  customary  exercise  one  brilliant  afternoon, 
and  there  he  sat  reclining  in  an  easy-chair,  well 
wrapped  up  in  overcoat,  robes  and  blankets,  and  he 
caught  instant  glimpse  of  her,  and  his  eyes  flashed 
their  signal  of  joy  and  recognition,  his  pale  cheek 


84  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

mounted  its  radiant  color  in  honor  of  her  coming, 
but  she  went  pale  as  a  lily,  and,  turning  hurriedly, 
snapped  the  gate  behind  her,  and  with  obstinately 
averted  head  hastened  away  down  the  row.  It  was 
impossible  for  his  sister  not  to  see  the  depth  and 
bitterness  of  his  disappointment  and  chagrin.  She 
determined  that  the  hour  for  her  to  speak  and  to 
speak  plainly  was  now  at  hand,  so  relentlessly  she 
began.  There  are  women  who  choose  the  time  when. 
a  fellow  is  down,  a  helpless  invalid,  to  tell  him,  in 
extenso,  the  worst  news,  perhaps,  that  could  be 
brought  to  his  ears.  At  the  moment  when  he 
should  be  free  from  new  or  grievous  distress,  they 
load  upon  him,  then  and  there,  the  latest  rumors  or 
reports  that  can  be  relied  upon  to  bring  him  infinite 
anxiety  and  concern.  Not  that  they  wish  to  see 
him  suffer,  but  because  the  temptation  to  tell  dire- 
ful tidings  is  so  uncontrollable.  Then,  again,  when 
he  is  up  and  well  and  able  to  dodge  away,  she  may 
not  so  easily  reach  his  ear.  Whatever  be  the 
reasoning,  Miss  Maynard  felt  that  the  time  for  her 
to  speak  had  come,  and  speak  she  did. 

"  Ronald,"  she  began,  "  do  you  care — already — 
for  that  girl  2" 

And  Ronald,  without  speaking,  answered. 

Whereupon  Miss  Maynard,  in  tones  of  deep  dig- 
may,  ejaculated,  "  Oh,  Ronald  1"  and  lapsed  into  a 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  85 

silence  indicative  of  unspeakable  woe,  leaving  him 
no  alternative  but  to  demand  the  reason  for  her 
strangely  significant  conduct.  No  little  urging  ac- 
complished the  object.  It  required  strong  persua- 
sion, apparently,  to  induce  the  woman  to  tell  what 
she  knew,  or  believed  she  knew,  concerning  Nathalie 
Baird,  but  when  once  the  ice  was  broken  there  was 
no  stint  to  the  current  of  her  accusations. 

If  gave  her  infinite  pain,  she  declared,  to  have  to 
sav  one  word  against  a  girl  who  was  orphaned,  home- 
less and,  but  for  Mrs.  Barry,  practically  friendless,  but 
duty  to  her  brother  and  the  good  name  their  father 
had  given  them  prompted  her  to  the  task.  Shy  and 
pure  and  innocent  as  Miss  Baird  might  look,  there 
was  a  cloud  over  her  name  and  character.  She  was 
carrying  on  a  clandestine  correspondence  and  hold- 
ing secret  meetings  in  the  dead  of  night  with  a 
man,  a  total  stranger  to  the  garrison. 

For  a  moment  Maynard  could  not  speak.  His 
face,  pallid  through  illness  and  suffering,  took  on  a 
shade  of  gray  that  intensified  its. ghastly  hue.  His 
sister  looked  upon  him  in  astonishment  and  in 
fright.  "  Konald  !"  she  cried,  "  I  did  not  know — I 
did  not  dream  it  could  mean  so  much  to  you." 

"  It  doesn't  mean,"  he  interrupted,  finding  husky 
voice  at  last.  Then  each  word  seemed  to  come  like 
the  crack  of  a  whip — sharp,  snapping,  a  tone  that 


86  i  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

never  in  his  life  had  she  heard  from  his  lips  before. 
"It  doesn't  mean,  for  I  don't  believe  a  damned  word 
of  it." 

Shocked  and  stunned,  the  woman  was  for  the 
moment  silenced.  Never  since  childhood  days  had 
he  braved  her.  Taught  by  his  soldier  father  the 
most  scrupulous  courtesy  and  gentleness  to  woman 
in  general,  his  mother  and  elder  sister  in  par- 
ticular ;  punished  promptly  if  in  boyish  temper  he 
raised  hand  or  voice  against  either,  he  had  passed  from 
the  jurisdiction  of  that  mother  to  that  of  the  sister  as 
unopposing  as  though  her  sway  for  all  time  were  un- 
questioned, and  Grace,  womanlike,  had  accepted  his 
submission  as  her  just  due ;  had  found  him  yielding 
as  ever  to  her  dominion  when  he  returned  to  her  on 
cadet  furlough,  and  hardly  less  so  when,  with  broad- 
ened shoulders  and  in  stalwart  manhood  and 
bristling  mustache,  the  young  graduate  came  once 
more  to  the  peaceful  Mohawk  village  before  joining 
his'regiment  in  the  far  West.  She  had  looked  upon 
him  as  her  own,  to  guide  and  mold  and  direct  as 
she  had  guided  and  directed  his  toddling  footsteps. 
She  had  never  known  him  to  oppose  his  will — his 
plans— to  hers.  She  recalled  how  when,  only  three 
weeks  before  it  was  time  for  him  to  start  for 
Wyoming,  he  came  in  all  eagerness  one  day  to  say 
that  Wharton,Ives  and  Draper,  of  his  class,  were  to 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  87 

sport  their  new  uniforms  for  the  first  time  at  the 
"Twenty-eighth  Hop"*  at  West  Point,  and  had 
written  for  him  to  join  them,  and  he  was  wild  to  go, 
she  had  glanced  at  Gertrude  Bonner  sitting  patiently 
in  the  vine-shaded  porch  of  the  old  homestead,  and 
bade  him  hold  his  reply  until  she  could  have 
opportunity  to  speak  with  him,  alone.  How  sub- 
missively, how  affectionately,  he  had  yielded  to  her 
brief  argument ;  how  entirely  he  seemed  to  be 
swayed  by  her  wish ;  how  utterly  for  years  had 
the  brother  been  her  vassal — "  hers  to  command" 
indeed — how  indefinitely  might  she  not  have 
counted  on  the  continuance  of  her  queendom  had 
not  another  woman  stepped  upon  the  threshold  of 
her  throne.  Not  only  to  her,  to  the  sister  who  had 
been  his  guide  and  guardian,  k>  these  many  years, 
did  he  owe  allegiance  now,  but  in  the  jealous  love 
of  power  and  possession  burning  in  the  woman's 
breast,  she  had  come  to  regard  it  as  her  right  to  say 
to  whom  her  princeling  should  tender,  when  the 
time  came,  the  heart  and  hand  that  she  had  held  in 
fancy  as  only  hers  to  bestow. 

And  he  had  dared  to  look  with  eyes  of  love  upon 
another,  and  now  had  dared  to  say  to  her  that  not 
one  word  would  he  believe  of  her  aspersion  of  the 

*The  ball  given  by  the  cadets  on  the  28th  of  August, 
annually. 


88  A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  • 

girl  he  loved.  It  stung  her  to  quick  resentment,  to 
one  supreme  effort  to  regain  her  old  ascendancy. 
Far  down  the  row  toward  the  east  front  the  slendeF 
form  of  the  fair  young  girl  could  be  seen.  She  had 
well-nigh  reached  the  end  of  the  walk.  It  was  too 
early  for  the  band,  too  soon  after  the  midday  meal 
for  the  ladies  to  appear  upon  the  piazzas.  Only  a 
few  children  were  chasing  about  the  gray-green 
carpet  of  the  parade  ;  only  a  few  nursemaids  and 
baby  carriages  were  visible,  lazily  trundling  along 
the  sunlit  path.  Not  a  man  was  in  sight  about  the 
great  quadrangle.  The  barracks  were  silent  and 
deserted.  The  guard  maintained  over  the  few 
general  prisoners  had  been  drawn  within  the  wooden 
prison.  Grace  Ma}7nard  was  alone  with  her  brother, 
weakened  as  he  was  by  wounds  and  suffering  and 
mental  worry,  and  it  might  be  her  last  opportunity. 

"  Ronald,"  she  exclaimed,  in  tragic  resumption  of 
the  old,  almost  forgotten  tone  of  mingled  amaze, 
distress  and  horror  with  which  erring  little  boys 
are  made  to  vaguely  realize  that  tiny  have  been 
guilty  of  some  unpardonable  crime,  "  Eonald,  you 
never,  never  would  have  dared  to  say  such  words  to 
me  were  our  father  still  alive." 

"  Grace/'  he  answered,  with  fire  burning  in  his 
deep  eyes,  "  you  would  never  have  dared  to  speak 
so  of  such  a  girl  in  his  presence,  and  I'll  never  listen 
to  it  from  you  or  any  one  again.5' 


A  GARRISON  TANGLS.  89 

She  had  sprung  to  her  feet,  barely  listening  to 
him  now,  and  was  gazing  with  dilated  eyes  in  the 
direction  the  girl  had  taken. 

"  You  won't  listen,"  she  cried,  in  tones  of  mingled 
wrath  and  triumph.  "  You  won't  believe  the  sister 
who  loves  and  would  stand  between  you  and  deceit. 
Well,  then— look!" 

And,  looking  as  she  pointed,  Ronald  Maynard  saw 
that  a  tall  man  in  civilian  dress  had  suddenly  issued 
from  behind  the  last  house  on  the  row,  and  was 
bending  eagerly,  closely  over  the  drooping  head  of 
.^athalie  Baird. 


90  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 


•'  NATHALIE,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Barry,  looking  up 
from  her  sofa  a  day  or  two  later,  "  it  is  high  time 
you  were  indulging  in  a  new  gown  and  a  spring  hat. 
"Why  don't  you  drive  to  town  with  Mrs.  Freeman 
one  of  these  warm  afternoons.  She'd  onl\T  be  too 
glad  to  take  you  and  help  you.  and  you'll  be  sur- 
prised to  see  what  pretty  things  you  can  get  or  have 
made  here  in  Cheyenne." 

"  The  girl's  color,  ever  betraying,  came  and  went, 
leaving  her  even  paler  than  before.  She  turned 
spsvay  as  though  searching  for  a  book  and  for  a 
moment  made  no  reply. 

"  I  know  how  self-denying  you  are,  Nathalie,  but 
think,  dear,  a  young  girl  like  you  should  not  be  so 
aggressively  plain  in  her  dress ;  and  while  your 
jacket  and  hat  are  all  very  well  for  winter,  our 
bright  days  are  here  now  and  there  are  warm  hours 
in  the  sunshine  no  matter  how  cold  it  grows  toward 
night.  You're  not  sending  money  home,  are  you  ?" 

"I'm — I've  been  helping  dress  Cousin  Ruth," 
faltered  the  girl. 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  91 

"  But  that  isn't  right  Nathalie,  child,  and  your 
uncle  is  the  last  man  to  allow  it,  if  indeed  he  knows 
of  it.  Your  little  salary  should  go  to  keeping  you 
nicely  dressed,  and  in  laying  up  for  a  rainy  day. 
The  major  told  me  you  had  put  most  of  it  in  the 
bank.  Do  they  allow  you  interest  on  it  ?  Forgive 
me,  dear.  I  don't  wish  to  intrude  on  your  personal 
affairs,  but  you've  become  very  dear  to  me,  Nathalie, 
and  I  cannot  see  you  pinching  and  denying  yourself 
if  it  be  to  provide  for  others  who  are  quite  as  well 
able  to  take  care  of  themselves  as  you  are;  more  so, 
I  fear,  for  you  are  not  looking  a  bit  well  of  late." 

No  answer,  but  the  girl's  face  was  averted  and 
she  was  trembling  now  from  head  to  foot.  Big 
tears  were  starting  from  her  eyes.  She  was  biting 
her  lips  in  the  effort  to  control  their  mad  quivering. 

Anxious  and  troubled,  Mrs.  Barry  half  turned  on 
her  couch  and  strove  to  see  what  Nathalie  was  doing. 
She  held  forth  a  fragile  white  hand.  "  Nathalie," 
she  said,  softly. 

It  was  too  much.  The  girl  turned  suddenly,  as 
though  to  throw  herself  upon  her  knees  and  clasp 
the  extended  hand,  but  at  that  very  instant  brisk 
steps  and  cheery  voices  were  heard  at  the  door,  tho 
gong  bell  clanged,  and  Nathalie  rushed  from  the 
room  and  up  the  narrow  stairs. 

It  was  Mrs.  Freeman  and  Mrs.  Ray  who  entered, 


$2  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

fresh,  radiant,  blithe  arid  joyous,  the  pictures  of 
health  and  happiness  despite  the  fact  that  their  re- 
spective lords  were  far  afield  and  no  man  but  Sher- 
idan could  say  when  they  would  be  allowed  to  return 
to  their  post — and  he  wouldn't.  The  renegade 
Indians,  far  from  rushing  northward  on  the  old 
accustomed  trail,  as  had  been  predicted,  had  lashed 
out  westward  and  made  a  wide  circuit  before  striking 
for  the  sand  hills  of  Nebraska.  There  had  been  no 
conflict  between  them  and  the  squadrons  of  the  — th. 
The  latter  were  now  trotting  a  stern  chase  with  the 
quarry  long  leagues  ahead,  and  while  they  were 
say  ing  unbecoming  and  unpublishable  things  abroad, 
their  better  halves  were  thanking  heaven  at  their 
army  homes  for  the  news  that  the  fleeing  warriors 
were  safely  across  the  Union  Pacific  and  "  scooting  " 
for  the  savage  fastnesses  in  far  northwest  Nebraska : 
news  which  brought  disgust  unspeakable  to  the 
pursuing  troopers,  but  to  these  women  left  at 
Russell  joy  utterly  unconfined. 

"  Isn't  it  too  good  for  anything  ?"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Freeman,  as  she  led  the  way  into  Mrs.  Barry'e 
pretty  parlor.  "  They  have  got  so  long  a  start  our 
troops  can't  possibly  catch  them,  and  the  cavalry 
from  Robinson  and  Red  Cloud  will  have  to  do  it  all. 
I've  been  in  misery  until  I  got  the  news  just  now, 
Where's  Nathalie?  Is  she  ready?  1  wanted  to 
drive  in  before  luncheon." 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  93 

But  Mrs.  Barry  put  her  finger  to  her  lips  and 
glanced  significantly  aloft. 

"  Nathalie  is  utterly  upset  about  something  this 
morning,"  she  murmured.  "  Do  sit  down  a  moment, 
won't  you  ?  I  want  to  talk  with  you  about  her. 
I  am  so  troubled  on  her  account.  She  has  been 
ailing  for  days,  as  you  know,  seeming  nervous  and 
troubled,  and  it  has  become  so  much  worse  of  late. 
What  can  be  the  matter  ?" 

Then  Mrs.  Freeman  looked  appealingly  at  Mrs. 
Ray,  and  as  she  remained  silent,  the  former  spoke  : 

"  Mrs.  Barry,  if  we,  too,  didn't  think  everything 
of  Nathalie  I  shouldn't  say  this,  but  we  both  feel 
— Mrs.  Ray  and  I — that  you  should  know  the  story 
that  has  been  going  round.  We've  both  heard  it. 
We  couldn't  help  hearing  it.  Everybody  seems  to 
have  heard  it  in  the  last  two  days,  and  it  isn't  all 
Mrs.  Turner's  doing  either.  Marion,"  she  said, 
turning  impulsively  to  her  younger  friend, "  do  help 
me,  it  is  so  hard." 

Looking  first  at  one,  then  at  the  other,  Mrs. 
Barry  saw  too  plainly  the  sorrow  and  embarrass- 
ment in  each  fair  face. 

"  Tell  me  everything,"  she  murmured.  "  Surely 
if  trouble  comes  to  her  we  should  be  the  ones  to 
help." 

"  It  is  briefly   this,  Mrs.  Barry :  It  is  told  that 


94  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

Nathalie  has  several  times  been  seen  either  away 
out  on  the  prairie  before  the  troops  went  away,  or 
else  down  here  near  the  store  since  that  time,  talk- 
inof earnestly,  pleadingly  with  a  strange  man — not  a 
soldier — a  tall,  powerful  fellow.  At  first  it  was 
thought  to  be — you  know — one  of  Fanny  Turner's 
fabrications,  but  Miss  Maynard  solemnly  assured 
Mrs.  Stannard  she  had  seen  it  twice ;  and  now  Mrs. 
Ray,  you've  got  to  tell  the  rest." 

"  It  is  only  this,  Mrs.  Barry  :  You  know  the  one 
failing  Hogan,  our  Irish  groom  has.  He  is  devoted 
to  Captain  Kay,  but  once  in  a  long  while  he  yields 
to  temptation,  and  the  other  night  he  was  in  town 
and  had  evidently  been  drinking  when  he  came 
back,  and  had  lost  his  key  to  the  door  of  the  little 
room  he  has  in  the  extension  at  the  rear  of  the 
quarters.  Will  had  gone  over  to  the  barracks,  and 
I  heard  our  cook  go  to  let  Hogan  in,  and  heard  him 
telling  her  thickly  of  an  adventure  he  had  had.  He 
was  excited  and  talked  loudly,  and  I  feared  it  would 
rouse  the  neighbors,  so  I  threw  open  the  back 
window  and  told  Jane  to  make  him  go  to  his  bed 
without  another  word,  and  he  obeyed,  but  his  eye 
was  all  black  and  swollen  in  the  morning  and  I  saw 
there  was  some  truth  in  what  he  said— that  just 
back  of  your  quarters  he  had  stumbled  on  a  big, 
burly  man  in  civilian  dress  to  whom  a  girl  was  talk- 


A  GARRISON  TAN  OLE.  95 

ing  low,  begging  and  imploring  and  crying,  and  the 
man  answered  her  roughly,  and  Hogan  thought  the 
girl  was  your  housemaid,  for  she  heard  his  step  and 
ran  indoors  at  once,  and  then  he  himself  had  some 
words  with  the  man,  and  got  knocked  down,  he 
said,  so  quick  he  never  knew  what  hit  him,  and  the 
man  had  vanished  when  he  regained  his  feet. 
Hogan's  man  and  that  described  by  Miss  Maynard 
are  apparently  the  same.  Who  can  it  be  and  what 
possible  hold  can  one  like  him,  have  on  a  girl  so 
sweet  and  refined  as  Nathalie?" 

Mrs.  Barry  listened  without  interposing  a  word, 
but  her  eyes  were  eloquent  with  sorrow  and  per- 
plexity. At  last  she  spoke. 

"  Can  you  remember  the  night,  Mrs.  Eay  2" 

"  Yes ;  it  was  the  night  I  was  here  with  you — the 
night  the  news  came  that  our  battalion,  too,  had  to 
go." 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence.  Mrs.  Barry  had 
covered  her  eyes  with  her  thin  white  hand  and  was 
thinking  intently,  and  presently,  without  removing 
her  hand,  she  asked,  and  the  question  itself  was 
significant : 

"  Do  you  know — has  Mrs.  Turner  been  very  much 
with  Miss  Maynard  lately  ?" 

And  her  visitors  looked  at  each  other  without 
speaking.  After  waiting^  a  moment  for  an  anscver 


96  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

and  receiving  none,  Mrs.  Barry  looked  up.  "  Why 
do  you  not  speak  ?"  she  said  to  Mrs.  Freeman,  who 
sat  nearest.  "  You  know  that  your  silence  tells  me 
that  my  conjecture  is  correct.  And  now  about  Mr. 
Maynard.  Mrs.  Stannard  told  me  that  he  sat  up 
two  days  ago,  was  out  on  the  porch  awhile,  but 
that  he  seemed  anything  but  benefited.  Did  he 
see  Nathalie  and  this  man  down  by  the  store  ?  Is 
that  one  reason  he  has  not  left  his  room  since  ?" 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Barry.  Miss  Maynard  has  told  Mrs. 
Stannard  and  others,  too,  that  not  only  she,  but 
her  brother,  saw  the  meeting,  and  her  brother  rec- 
ognized the  man  as  one  he  had  seen  in  the  crowd 
the  day  of  the  trouble  in  town.  But  now  let  me 
say  right  here  that  I  can  believe  no  ill  of  her ;  that 
there  is  probably  some  hold,  some  claim,  or  she 
would  never  be  seen  with  such  a  looking  character ; 
and  that  he  is  reprobate  I  thoroughly  believe.  She 
is  shielding  him  for  somebody's  sake  or  she  never  in 
the  world  would  have  concealed  her  meetings  with 
him  from  you.  I  say  again,  Mrs.  Barry,"  persisted 
Mrs.  Freeman,  her  color  rising  with  the  warmth  of 
her  appeal,  "  I  will  believe  no  ill  of  Nathalie,  and 
that's  one  reason  why  I  so  earnestly  urged  her  to 
go  to  town  with  me.  I  wanted  to  try  in  every  way 
to  win  her  confidence  and  be  a  help  to  her.  I  had 
hoped  so  much  from  her  knowing  Nannie  Bryan, 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  97 

but  they  didn't  get  along  together  at  all.  Nathalie 
is  utterly  unerved  by  this  trouble.  That's  the  truth 
of  it,  and  she  dare  not  tell  the  cause  to  anybody. 
Did  you  say  she  was  in  her  room  ?" 

"Yes,  she  was  here  with  me  and  I  was  urging  her 
to  go  with  you  to  town,  and  trying  to  get  her  to  tell 
me  what  was  worrying  her,  when  she  heard  your 
steps  and  vanished.  I  think  she  was  crying.  I've 
found  this  out,  that  she  has  been  sending  some 
money  home  to  help  dress  a  cousin  of  hers." 

And  just  then  came  another  step,  quick  and  busi- 
ness-like upon  the  piazza.  It  was  the  orderly  from 
the  adjutant's  office  with  the  mail.  As  the  servant 
entered  with  the  little  packet  both  the  visitors 
sprang  to  the  door  and  called  after  the  garrison 
Mercury,  eager  to  know  what  he  had  for  them.  He 
came  back,  smiling,  with  letters  for  both,  and  yet 
their  faces  were  long  as  they  re-entered,  for  there  was 
not  a  line  from  their  lords. 

But  Mrs.  Barry's  face  was  clouded  too.  "  Look 
at  this,"  she  said,  and  held  out  a  dingy  missive  with 
the  Cheyenne  postmark  and  a  scrawling  super  scrip- 
tion,  "Miss  Nath.  Baird.  In  care  of  Mrs.  Majer 
Barry,  Fort  Russell."  "Once  before  a  letter  came  for 
her  from  town,  but  it  was  addressed  in  a  scholarly 
hand,  and  I  remember  now  how  agitated  she  was  at 
sight  of  it.  But  this  is  the  work  of  some  uneducated 


98  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

person.  It  seems  Irish  somehow,  that  'In  care  of 
Mrs.  Majer'  especially.  What  can  we  do — what 
shall  we  do  to  help  her  ?  If  she  would  only  confide 
in  some  one !" 

But  before  evening  it  was  definitely  settled  that 
that  was  the  one  thing  poor  Nathalie  could  not  or 
would  not  do.  Mrs.  Barry  sent  the  letter  to  her 
room  with  the  message  that  Mrs.  Freeman  was  there 
to  take  her  driving,  and  would  she  not  come  down. 
And  the  maid  returned,  saying  Miss  Baird  was  not 
well  enough  to  go.  She  had  been  lying  on  her  bed, 
the  girl  admitted,  for  she  had  to  wait  some  little 
time  before  the  door  was  unlocked.  Then]  Mrs. 
Freeman  penned  a  little  note.  "  Dearest  Nathalie : 
"Won't  you  see  me  just  a  minute  or  two  ?"  But  the 
maid  came  back  in  five  minutes  with  the  penciled 
words,  "  Please,  please  do  not  think  I  am  ungrateful 
for  all  your  patience  and  kindness,  but  indeed  I  am 
not  fit  to  see  any  one  just  now." 

And  so  the  friends  had  gone  sadly  away  without 
the  longed-for  word  with  her,  and  then  Mrs. 
Stannard  came  to  read  to  the  invalid,  but  the  books 
were  set  aside  and  the  two  took  counsel  together  as 
to  what  should  be  done.  They  sent  tea  and  an 
appetizing  luncheon  up  to  her  room,  and  the  maid 
brought  back  her  best  thanks  and  said  that  she 
would  try  to  eat  She  was  writing  a  letter  then. 


A  GARRISON  T ANGLE.  99 

But  when  two  hours  later  they  sent  up  to  see  how 
she  was,  the  maid  reported  that  the  luncheon  was 
untouched ;  even  the  tea  seemed  to  have  been 
neglected.  They  heard  Nathalie's  step  on  the  land- 
ing above,  as  in  troubled  silence  the  ladies  looked  at 
each  other  and  the  maid  stood  patiently  by.  They 
heard  it  light  and  almost  stealthy  on  the  little  land- 
ing to  the  stairway,  and  both  looked  eagerly  to  the 
door  as  though  expectant  of  her  coming,  but  she 
never  neared  it.  Without  an  instant's  falter,  the 
girl  hastened  through  the  hall  and  out  of  the  house. 

"  She  has  been  answering  that  note,"  said  Mrs. 
Barry,  the  moment  she  had  dismissed  the  servant, 
"  and  now,  trusting  to  no  one,  has  gone  to  put  it  in 
the  mail-bag  herself." 

It  was  late  when  Nathalie  returned  to  the  house, 
and  this  time  she  came  straight  to  her  protector's 
side,  knelt  at  the  sofa,  and,  never  waiting  for 
welcoming  word  or  caress,  took  the  slender  white 
hand  in  both  her  own,  bowed  over  it  almost  humbly 
a  moment,  and  then,  lifting  her  head,  throwing  it 
back  with  gesture  almost  desperate,  abruptly  spoke : 

"  Mrs.  Barry — I — I've  got  to  say  it — I  can  be  of 
no  further  use  to  you  now.  I'm  bringing  trouble, 
yes,  even  shame  to  you  who  have  been  so  loving  and 
kind  to  me,  and  to  your  friends  who  have  been  so 
eager  to  help  me.  I'm  not  fit  to  stay.  Do  me  one 
last  kindness.  Send  me  home." 


100  ,  ^  GARRISON  TANGLE- 

Her  fingers  were  working  nervously.  Her  eyes 
were  hard  and  hot  and  dry.  There  was  no  weak- 
ness, no  indecision,  no  melting  now.  The  girl  had 
spent  long  hours  that  day  looking  her  trouble  in  the 
face  and  had  made  her  resolution.  She  was  set  and 
determined.  It  was  not  as  suppliant  she  knelt.  It 
was  to  urge,  almost  to  demand. 

"Nathalie,  child,"  began  Mrs.  Barry,  "you  do 
yourself  infinite  wrong.  There  has  been  no  talk  of 
shame,  no  thought  of  even  blame  attached  to  you  ; 
but  those  who  love  you  and  would  be  your  friends 
are  troubled  because  of  your  trouble." 

"  Mrs.  Barry,  don't  tell  me  there  has  not  been 
evil  report,  if  not  shameful  report,  Can  I  not  see  ? 
"Why,  otherwise,  should  Mrs.  Turner  and  Mrs. 
Raymond  turn  their  heads  away  and  refuse  to 
recognize  me  on  the  walk?  "Why  should  Miss 
Maynard  avoid  meeting  me  as  she  has  twice  done, 
shrinking  back  into  her  gate  as  though  I  were — 
contamination.  There  has  been  talk — cruel  talk, 
and  I  know  it,  and  what  is  worse — ten  times  worse 
— is  that  much  that  is  said  I  can  never  deny.  In  my 
misery  I've  tried  to  hide  it  from  everybody,  but  he 
has  been  utterly  reckless.  He  has  dogged  and 
dared  and  followed  everywhere,  even  here.  Mrs. 
Barry — Mrs.  Barry,  there  is  only  one  place  on  earth 
where  I  can  avoid  him,  and  that  is,  home.  Send 
me  there.  In  pity  send  me  home." 


A  GARRISON  TAXGLE.  101 

And  then  at  last  the  overcharged  heart  gave  way  ; 
the  poor  girl  burst  into  a  passion  of  tears  and,  turn- 
ing, she  threw  herself  prone  upon  the  rug  at  the 
sofa  side,  buried  her  face  in  her  arras  and  sobbed 
like  a  spirit-broken  child. 

For  several  minutes  the  storm  of  her  passionate 
weeping  raged  unbroken.  She  was  weak  and  ex- 
hausted, weak  even  as  the  invalid  herself,  when  at 
last  she  was  persuaded  once  more  to  kneel  beside 
the  couch,  lay  her  swollen  face  on  her  protector's 
bosom,  and  submit  to  the  soothing  of  her  almost 
motherly  caress.  For  a  long  time,  as  the  sunshine 
vanished,  and  the  twilight  settled  down,  and  the 
gloom  and  shadow  of  the  coming  night  enshrouded 
the  little  parlor,  the  girl  knelt  nerveless,  encircled 
by  those  loving  arms.  Mrs.  Barry  would  ask  no 
questions,  seek  no  explanation  now.  Her  one  aim 
was  to  calm  and  comfort.  Confidences,  she  assured 
herself,  would  follow.  The  maid  came  to  the  door- 
way with  the  parlor  lamp,  but  was  bidden  to  leave 
it  in  the  adjoining  room  and  to  excuse  the  ladies 
should  visitors  appear.  At  last  Nathalie  herself 
attempted  to  move.  "  Why,  it  is  long  past  time  for 
your  tea,"  she  murmured  brokenly.  "  How  selfish 
and  forgetful  I've  been.  Let  me  get  it,"  she 
pleaded. 

"  And    you,   too,   Nathalie,   have  not    tasted   a 


102  -^  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

mouthful  since  breakfast.     Order  tea,  dear.     Then 
we'll  talk." 

But  even  after  the  soothing  cup  Nathalie  Baird 
amazed  her  friend  and  comforter.  To  every  plea 
that  she  should  reveal  the  name  of  the  man  who  had 
so  destroyed  her  peace  of  mind  and  to  disclose  the 
nature  of  the  claim  he  held,  the  girl  was  deaf  and 
determined.  "  Do  not  ask  me  that,"  she  said.  "  I 
have  pledged  my  very  word  not  to  tell.  All  I  ask 
is  to  be  allowed  to  go,  to  relieve  you  of  the  shame 
and  anxiety  my  staying  would  surely  cause.  Oh, 
Mrs.  Barry,  Mrs.  Barry."  she  cried  aloud,  "  you  do 
not  dream  what  he  could  do.  He  threatens  me 
even  here,  under  your  roof.  He  says  unless  I  bring 
or  send  him  more  he  will  come  here  to  this  house 
to  demand  it.  Oh,  don't  }rou  see — don't  you  know 
why  I  do  not  end  it  all,  and  by  stealing  away  at 
night  and  hiding  until  the  first  train  goes  eastward, 
I  could  relieve  you  of  all  this  misery  ?  Mrs.  Barry, 
I  haven't  a  penny  in^the  world — he  has  taken  every 
cent!" 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  103 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  doctor  came  away  from  Ronald  Maynard's 
room  that  evening  a  puzzled  man.  He  was  not  the 
most  astute  practitioner  in  the  service.  Of  the  three 
"  medicos  "  employed  at  the  post  two  were  in  the 
field  with  the  battalions  of  Barry  and  Stannard  and 
the  third — we  need  not  give  his  name — remained  to 
look  after  the  women  and  children,  the  band  and 
non-combatants,  and  the  infantry  guard  sent  over- 
from  Steele.  He  was  a  good,  conscientious  young 
man.  He  had  found  the  lieutenant  so  much  im- 
proved two  days  before  that  he  advised  his  sitting 
out  on  the  porch  and  sunning  himself,  and  was  sur- 
prised at  the  result  of  his  experiment.  Maynard 
said  the  sight  of  the  far-away  snowcaps  of  the 
peaks  only  made  him  mad  with  eagerness  to  get 
into  saddle  and  away  to  join  his  friends  in  the  field. 
So  if  they  couldn't  let  him  go  to  the  regiment  there 
was  no  use  in  his  getting  worse  by  fretting  out  of 
doors.  Maynard  was  distinctly  and  aggressively 
ill-tempered  in  his  remarks,  thought  the  doctor,  and 
ought  therefore  to  be  getting  well,  but  he  was  not 


104  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

fts  well  by  several  degrees  as  he  had  been  three 
days  before,  and  for  the  life  of  him  the  doctor 
couldn't  say  what  had  gone  amiss,  until,  coming 
down  into  that  selfsame  evening  sunshine,  he  found 
Mrs.  Turner  and  Miss  Ma\7nard  with  their  heads 
close  together — so  close  that  they  could  only  find 
time. for  a  very  perfunctory  greeting  to  Mrs.  Kay- 
mond  who  had  just  gone  by,  but  who  sprang  up 
quickly  enough  at  his  appearance  on  the  piazza 
with  Mrs.  Stannard  by  his  side,  and  as  he  looked  at 
Fanny  Turner's  now  coquettishly  smiling  face,  the 
little  medico's  eyes  were  suddenly  enlightened. 
He  was  a  married  man,  it  is  perhaps  unnecessary  to 
say,  and  therefore  had  a  more  comprehensive  knowl- 
edge of  the  personal  characteristics  of  the  ladies  at 
the  post  than  could  ever  have  been  acquired  as  a 
bachelor.  He,  in  common  with  every  man  and 
woman,  had  noted  the  rapid  growth  of  Konald 
Maynuid's  devotions  to  Miss  Baird,  their  equally 
sudden  cessation,  and  ho,  too,  had  heard  and  pished 
and  pshawed  and  pooh-poohed  the  rapidly  circulated 
stories  about  her  meetings  with  the  mysterious  man. 
"  You  might  as  well  tell  me  that  Mrs.  Barry  was 
out  flirting  with  a  stranger,  now  that  the  major's 
gone,"  said  he  to  his  spouse,  in  somewhat  wrathful 
tone.  "  If  ever  a  girl  was  truth  and  purit}7  personi- 
fied, it's  that  Miss  Baird'1  But  he,  too,  was  noa- 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  105 

plussed  and  silenced  when  the  wife  of  his  bosom 
declared,  "  Well,  I'm  not  telling  you  alone  what  I've 
heard,  but  what  I've  seen.  Our  spare  room  windows 
look  out  over  the  prairie  back  of  the  hospital,  and 
I've  seen  her  meet  a  man  away  out  there."  The 
doctor  \vas  heard  to  express  a  wish  that  the  spare 
room  was  in  Halifax  for  all  the  good  it  did  them, 
but  that  didn't  help  matters.  It  was  something  in 
the  faces  of  the  two  women — Miss  Maynard  grave 
and  anxious,  Mrs.  Turner  coquettishly  smiling — • 
that  gave  him  a  clue  to  his  patient's  feverish  pulse 
and  lack-luster  eye.  Mrs.  Turner,  as  has  been  said, 
could  rob  a  woman  of  her  reputation  and  receive 
her  with  open  arms  almost  in  the  same  instant. 

Mrs.  Stannard  had  been  writing  to  her  major  in 
a  quiet  corner,  while  the  newly-made  intimates  were 
busy  outside.  She  had  intended  waylaying  the 
doctor  as  he  came  downstairs,  in  order  that  Stannard 
might  have  the  latest  bulletin  as  to  the  patient,  but 
so  absorbed  had  she  become  in  telling  "  Luce  "  the 
home  news,  and  so  slowly  and  quietly  did  he  de- 
scend the  stair,  that  she  never  heard  him  until  the 
opening  of  the  outer  door  aroused  her,  and  she  had 
just  time  to  catch  him  on  the  porch. 

The  little  man  looked  badgered  as  the  three  sur- 
rounded him.  "Maynard  isn't  as  well  as  he  ought 
to  be,"  was,  however,  his  downright  reply.  "His 


106  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

wound  is  doing  well,  but  he  isn't.  That's  all  there 
is  to  be  said  about  it,^except " — and  here  he  looked 
intently,  first  at  the  sister,  then  at  the  sister's  new- 
found friend — "  except  that  just  now  nothing  of  a 
worrying  or  disturbing  character  should  be  allowed 
to  reach  him.  It  is  bad  enough  that  he  should  be 
fretting  so  to  get  to  the  regiment.  Oh,  you'll  all 
have  letters  to-morrow,  Mrs.  Stannard,"  he  contin- 
ued, "  for  we  heard  that  the  major  crossed  at  North 
Platte  to-day." 

"  I  was  just  writing  to  him,  hoping  to  intercept 
him  there,"  she  replied,  "  but  couriers  will  undoubt- 
edly be  sent  after  them,  will  they  not  ?  Have  you 
heard  where  Major  Barry  was  likely  to  strike  the 
railway  ?  The  Indians  must  be  far  ahead  now." 

"  So  far  that  I  can  see  no  chance  of  our  people  com- 
ing up  with  them,  unless  they  go  to  sleep,"  said  the 
doctor.  "  Now  I've  said  nothing  of  their  crossing  to 
Maynard.  I  want  him  kept  quiet  to-night,  if  possi- 
ble. I'll  be  back  by  and  by."  And  With  those 
parting  injunctions  the  doctor  took  his  leave,  and 
Mrs.  Stannaru,  after  a  courteous  word  or  two  with 
her  guests,  left  them  together  and  returned  to  her 
desk. 

But  up  aloft,  in  his  cozy  room,  Mr.  Maynard  was 
not  resting  at  all.  Despite  his  stout  declaration  that 
hedidhotbelieve,and  would  not  believe  a  word  said  at 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  107 

the  expense  of  Nathalie  Baird,  deep  down  in  his 
heart,  even  before  he  saw  her  brief  meeting  with 
the  big  stranger,  that  soft,  sunshiny  afternoon,  he 
knew  that  there  was  abundant  reason  for  believing 
that  the  disturber  had  been  there  before.  He  had 
never  forgotten  for  a  moment  that  extraordinary 
occurrence  the  night  of  the  hop — the  shadowy  civil- 
ian who  tossed  pebbles  up  at  her  window,  and  then 
floored  him  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  when  he  had 
sought  to  challenge.  Furthermore,  Maynard  had 
caught  the  outlines  of  the  stranger's  bulk  that  night, 
and  those  outlines  strongly  resembled  those  of  the 
man  who  bent  so  confidentially  over  her  as  she 
stood  with  bowed  head,  yes,  with  apparently  atten- 
tive ear,  down  at  the  end  of  the  row  by  old  No.  1. 
"What  could  be  the  explanation  ?  What  but  that 
some  former  lover  was  pursuing  her  here,  and  that 
she,  though  unable  to  welcome  him  to  the  garrison, 
was  not  unwilling  to  meet  him ;  and  if  she  would 
meet  him  stealthily  by  day  away  out  on  the  prairie, 
in  some  of  its  swales  or  depressions,  why  not 
by  night,  when  none  could  spy  upon  her  actions  ? 
What  other  explanation  could  there  be?  Was 
not  her  beauty  enough  to  lure  a  man  from  the  ends 
of  the  earth  ?  Would  not  he  have  sought  and  fol- 
lowed her  anywhere,  had  she  but  kept  the  queendom 
of  his  faith  and  trust.  Love  her  ?  He  did — deeply, 


108  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

passionately,  miserably ;  for  now  he  recalled 
that  she  had  never  given  him  encouragement ;  that 
only  for  a  day  or  two  before  his  mishap  had  she 
shown  shy  pleasure  nt  his  coming;  and  all  those 
days  that  he  used  to  ride  out  in  search  of  her,  was 
it  not  more  than  probable  now  that  he  had  only 
been  very  much  in  the  way — a  nuisance  to  her  and 
to  her  skulking  lover?  Very  bitter  were  his 
thoughts,  and,  manlike,  he  included  in  his  jealous 
anger  not  only  the  girl  who  had  caused  him  such 
poignant  suffering,  but  that  other — the  sister  who 
had  been  the  first  to  open  his  eyes  to  his  queen's 
un  worth  in  ess. 

And  so  when  Grace  Maynard  came  to  him  soon 
after  evening  gun-fire  with  some  dainty  refreshment 
Mrs.  Stannard  had  prepared  for  him,  he  turned  away 
almost  petulantly,  and  with  his  face  to  the  wall  said 
he  could  not  bear  the  sight  of  anything  to  eat. 
And  this  was  the  brother  who  ever  since  babyhood 
had  been  her  charge  to  keep,  her  loyal  and  obedient 
vassal. 

Sighing  heavily,  she  turned  away  and  would  have 
gone,  but  he  called  her  back.  "  Grace,"  he  said, 
"  there's  something  I've  got  to  say.  I'm  getting  all 
right.  I  can  sit  up  just  as  well  as  not,  and  there's 
no  reason  why  to-morrow  or  next  day  I  shouldn't 
go  to  my  own  room,  and  why  within  the  week  I 
shouldn't  hurry_after  the  regiment." 


A  GAIUIISON  TANGLE.  109 

"Oh,  Ronald,"  she  iaterrupted,  "the  doctor 
says  it  would  be  death  to  you  to  try  it." 

"  Well,  better  that  kind  of  death  than  fretting  to 
death  here.  It's  killing  me  by  inches,  Grace,  and  I 
want  to  get  away,  and — we've  stayed  too  long  here 
at  the  Stannards'  anyhow.  It's  awfully  good  of 
them,  but  we  have  no  right,  no  claim,  so  I'm  going 
to  move  day  after  to-morrow  to  my  own  den,  and 
—you  ought  to  be  thinking  about  starting  for 
home." 

Think  about  starting  for  home,  indeed  ?  "Was  she 
in  her  sound  senses  ?  Was  this  her  little  Ronald 
telling  her  she  should  be  returning  to  that  far 
Mohawk  village  before  he  was  fairly  well  ?  It  was 
incredible;  it  was  more  than  that,  it  was  ungrateful, 
undutif ul — cruel,  heartless.  She  had  arranged  it  all 
on  very  different  lines.  The  doctor  was  to  give  a 
certificate. — she  had  studied  out  the  whole  situation 
—a  certificate  on  which  Ronald  was  to  be  granted  a 
month's  leave  with  per.n:  -;s:  >.i  to  apply  for  another  ; 
and  then  she  would  bundle  up  her  hero  baby  brother, 
and  by  easy  stages  she  would  trundle  him  home, 
and  there  he  would  swing  in  his  hammock,  and  she 
and  Gertrude  would  do  all  the  reading  and  nursing 
and  petting — she  and  Gertrude  at  first,  so  as  to 
arouse  no  suspicion  and  consequent  rebellion — then 
slie  would  gradually  slip  away  for  a  few  moments 


HO  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

at  a  time,  then  for  half  an  hour  or  so,  and  more  and 
more  leave  them  alone  together,  and  Cupid  and 
proximity  would  do  the  rest. 

But  here  he  was  calmly,  positively  telling  her 
that  it  was  his  purpose  to  move  to  that  other  roof, 
never  suggesting  that  she  should  follow  and  occupy 
Dana's  room  or  Hollis',  but,  with  almost  callous  in- 
difference, saying  it  was  time  for  her  to  be  thinking 
of  the  homeward  start,  because  he  meant  as  soon  as 
possible  to  take  the  tield.  It  meant  defeat  to  her 
hopes  and  plans.  It  might  leave  him  still  under  the 
influence  of  this  dangerously  lovely  New  England 
girl,  whom  she  was  bound  to  regard  as  unworthy 
his  notice,  yet  could  s  not  really  believe  guilty,  no 
matter  what  Mrs.  Turner  thought,  of  anything 
graver  than  indiscretion. 

The  same  gloaming  that  shrouded  Nathalie  and 
her  gentle  friend  in  the  adjoining  quarters  had 
stolen  in  upon  this  unprompted  conference.  The 
sister  could  no  longer  see  her  brother's  face.  He 
lay  there  vaguely  conscious  of,  yet  never  hearing, 
the  rapid  beating  of  her  aching  heart.  Perhaps  in 
his  own  dumb  misery  the  young  fellow  did  not  wish 
to  see  or  hear  the  first  symptom  of  either  pain  or 
remonstrance.  The  one  thought  uppermost  in  his 
mind  was,  that  for  long,  radiant,  beautiful  days,  for 
rapturous  hours  of  night  thoughts,  Nathalie  Baird 


A  GAK1USOX  TANGLE.  Ill 

had  lived  queen  of  his  heart's  first  love,  pure  and 
strong  and  fervent,  and  that  from  thatqueendom  had 
been  dashed  to  earth  a  broken  idol,  and  it  was  his 
sister  who  dealt  the  blow  that  shattered  her  throne. 
For  Mrs.  Turner  he  felt  only  impatient  contempt, 
lie  recalled  now  how  often  he  had  heard  of  her  as 
seeing  wrong  in  and  saying  wrong  of  every  woman 
of  whom  she  felt  the  faintest  envy,  and  already  there 
was  growing  up  in  his  heart  strong  reaction  against 
the  two  "  informers,"  as  he  called  them,  and  new 
excuse,  new  explanation  of  Nathalie's  strange  con- 
duct. He  did  not  wish  to  wound  his  sister,  but  if 
he  had  to  prepare  her  for  the  move  he  at  least  could 
not  wound  her  half  so  deep  as  her  revelation  had 
stabbed  him.  For  several  minutes  she  had  stood 
there  after  he  had  ceased.  Her  first  impulse  was  to 
protest,  and  vehement!}7,  against  his  decision.  Then 
she  was  minded  of  the  doctor's  demand  that  he 
should  be  spared  all  worry  and  excitement,  for  his 
sleep  had  been  fitful  and  broken,  and  he  sorely 
needed  caltn  repose.  At  last  she  ventured  to  trust 
herself : 

"  We  will  not  decide  to-night,  Ronald,"  she  said, 
as  gently  as  she  could.  "  I  will  think  over  all  you 
say,  and,  if  the  doctor  agrees  with  you " 

"  Whether  he  agrees  with  me  or  not,"  broke  in 
the  young  soldier  impatiently,  "  I  leave  this  house 


A  GARUKON  TANGLE. 

to-morrow  or  next  day.  I  will  not  remain  here,  a 
tax  on  Mrs.  Stannard's  kindness  ;  and  I'm  going  to 
the  field  the  moment  I  can  walk.  I  shall  tell  Mrs. 
Stannard  the  first  thing  to-morrow  morning." 

But  when  morning  came  it  brought  new  distrac- 
tion, and  for  the  time  at  least  banished  all  thought 
of  change  of  quarters. 

He  had  passed  a  wretched  night,  despite  the 
doctor's  late  visit  and  a  suspicion  of  soothing  syrup 
in  his  medicine.  He  was  awake  long  hours,  and 
was  only  falling  into  a  troubled  doze  when  the 
rafters  shook  with  the  dull  boom  of  the  reveille 
gun,  and  the  bugle  of  the  infantry  summoned  the 
little  garrison  to  roll  call.  Not  ten  minutes  there- 
after came  the  sound  of  voices  on  the  road  below, 
one  broadly  Irish,  loud,  truculent,  semi-defiant — 
the  other  low,  firm,  but  authoritative. 

"  I  tell  ye  the  leddy  will  see  me — she'll  see  me 
the  instant  she  sees  this,"  the  first  was  saying. 

"Him  that  sint  it's  dying  on  me  hands  wid  sorra 

'' 

"Stop  your  infernal  noise!"  was  the  fierce  inter- 
ruption. "You'll  see  no  one  here  until  people  are 
up,  and  not  then  until  you  can  give  an  account  of 
yourself." 

And  Maynard,  painfully  struggling  out  of  bed, 
reached  the  window  with  no  little  effort,  and 


A  GARUISOX  TANGLE.  113 

gazed  out  upon  the  road.  Writhing  in  the  grasp 
of  the  corporal  of  the  guard,  to  whose  assistance 
another  soldier  had  run,  was  a  brawny  Irishman, 
and  Maynard  knew  him  at  a  glance.  It  was  the 
same  fellow  whose  shock  head  had  peered  from  the 
upper  window  over  the  Empire  saloon  the  day  of 
his  luckless  mission  in  search  of  absentees.  Fran- 
tically now  he  was  waving  a  paper  in  his  hand,  as 
though  striving  to  attract  attention,  while  a  stalwart 
arm  and  hand  nearly  throttled  him  and  surely 
stopped  his  speech.  And  even  while  Maynard 
stood  there,  marveling,  and  with  sinking  heart,  ask- 
ing himself  what  new  complication  involved  the 
girl  he  so  hopelessly  loved,  he  felt  a  light  touch  on 
his  arm,  and  his  sister,  in  loose  wrapper,  had 
hastened  to  his  side. 

"Ronald,  this  is  most  imprudent,"  she  began  ;  but 
he  shook  her  off  roughly,  relentlessly,  for  there,  on 
the  roadway  below,  before  his  very  eyes,  a  tall, 
slender  girl,  her  beautiful  hair  adrift,  clad  like  his 
sister,  in  loose  wrapper,  was  hastening  toward  the 
struggling  group,  and  at  sight  of  her  the  contest 
ceased.  The  corporal  respectfully  touched  his  cap. 
The  furious  captive  forgot,  for  a  moment  at  least,  his 
wrath,  and  eagerly  held  forth  the  scrap  of  paper  in 
his  hand.  She  took  it  hastily,  read  it  rapidly 
through,  turned  as  though  in  utter  helplessness  and 


114  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

despair.  Was  it  fancy,  Maynard  asked  himself — 
did  not  her  eyes  imploringly  seek  his  window  for  an 
instant  ?  Then  as  suddenly  she  turned.  "  Say  I'm 
coming  quick  as  possible.  Go  1"  she  cried,  and  then 
fled  back  into  the  house. 


A  GARRISON  TANQLB.  lift 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  excitement  consequent  upon  the  appearance 
of  the  Empire's  "  bouncer,"  Mr.  P.  Maloney,  at  the 
early  hour  of  half-past  five  o'clock  this  fine  April 
morning,  was  not  slow  in  spreading  itself  from  the 
guardhouse  to  the  quarters  and  thence  to  officers' 
row.  By  the  time  the  bugle  sounded  for  guard- 
mounting  at  nine  there  was  hardly  a  household 
along  the  line  that  did  not  know  that  just  before 
gun-fire  the  Celtic  Cerberus  of  this  once  popular 
resort  had  turned  up  in  garrison,  boldly  demanding 
the  right  to  ring  at  Major  Barry's  door,  and 
merely  asking  where  it  was.  Yery  properly  the 
corporal  of  the  guard  had  been  summoned  by  the 
sentry  who  first  sighted  the  presumable  prowler,  and 
very  properly  the  corporal  had  told  Mr.  Maloney 
that  this  was  no  hour  to  be  calling  at  officers' 
quarters,  and  that  he'd  have  to  come  with  him  to 
the  guardhouse  and  wait  there  the  pleasure  of  the 
temporary  post-commander,  and  very  properly  the 
corporal  was  amazed,  if  not  shocked,  at  the  sudden 
appearance  of  the  young  lady  inmate  of  the  Barry  a' 


116  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

quarters,  and  her  announcement  that  she  would 
follow  the  messenger  without  delay.  True  to  her 
word,  not  half  an  hour  later  Miss  Baird  issued  from 
the  eastern  gate  and  started  swiftly  on  her  three- 
mile  walk  to  town.  The  corporal  saw  her  go,  so 
did  the  hospital  steward  and  the  man-of-all-work, 
sweeping  out  the  stove,  and  so  did  the  lone  sentry, 
pacing  his  post  along  the  row  of  storehouses,  and  such 
a  thing  had  never  before  been  heard  of  at  Russell. 
Maloney,  it  seems,  had  ridden  out  on  a  borrowed 
horse,  and  had  hastened  back  with  his  answer  the 
moment  the  bewildered  non-commissioned  officer  let 
him  go.  What  no  one  of  these  men  could  under- 
stand was,  how  it  happened  that  one  so  fair  and 
delicate  as  Miss  Baird  should  have  to  take  that 
lonely  walk  instead  of  being  sent  in  by  some  one  of 
the  several  vehicles  owned  among  the  officers' 
families.  What  they  did  not  dream  was  that  of  all 
the  women  in  the  crowded  garrison  not  one  of  their 
number  at  that  moment  felt  so  friendless,  so  utterly 
alone  in  the  world,  as  Nathalie  Baird. 

At  eight  o'clock  Mrs.  Stannard  had  received  a  brief 
line  by  the  hands  of  Mrs.  Barry's  maid.  It  merely 
eaid,  "  Come  to  me  for  a  moment  as  soon  as  you 
can,"  and  Mrs.  Stannard  lost  no  time. 

She  found  her  invalid  friend  and  neighbor  pallid, 
distressed  and  alone.  Her  eyes  must  have  asked  for 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  117 

Nathalie,  for  Mrs.  Barry,  without  a  word,  handed 
her  a  little  note,  and  opening,  Mrs.  Stannard  read : 

"  I  am  called  away  by  a  summons  that  cannot  be 
ignored.  He  is  desperately  ill,  perhaps  dying,  and 
has  sent  for  me.  After  this  you  know  why  I  ought 
never  to  return  to  your  roof.  The  shame  of  it  all 
overpowers  me,  and  yet  I  cannot  do  less  for  him 
than  I  am  doing,  and  I  cannot — must  not — tell  you 
why.  To-night — to-morrow  you  shall  hear  from, 
me,  and  then — let  me  go  home  and  let  me  be  for- 
gotten. Your  heartbroken 

"  NATHALIE." 

"What  can  we  do?"  was  Mrs.  Stannard's  ex- 
clamation after  the  momentary  stupefaction  seemed 
to  have  passed.  "  May  I  not  get  the  doctor  and 
drive  after  her  with  him  ?" 

"  Could  you  ?  Will  you  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Barry,  al- 
most weeping.  "  Ah,  I  knew  you  would.  Send 
first  for  him,  and  then  I'll  tell  you  all  I  know." 

But  as  luck  would  have  it  the  little  doctor  had 
his  hands  full  this  fateful  morning.  The  only  prac- 
titioner left  at  the  post,  it  was  but  natural  that  half 
the  laundresses'  children  should  be  down  with  vari- 
ous infantile  maladies,  and  that  officers'  row  should 
find  itself  in  urgent  need  of  his  services.  Meantime 
there  had  come  many  a  caller  to  the  Barrys'  door — 
women  like  Mrs.  Hay  and  Mrs.  Freeman,  full  of 
sympathy  and  sorrow;  others, like  Mrs.  Turner  and 


118  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

Mrs.  Raymond,  inspired  by  a  rage  of  curiosity 
veiled  beneath  the  conventionalities  of  "  kind  in- 
quiries." Mrs.  Barry  could  see  no  one  at  first,  but 
yielded  to  Mrs.  Freeman's  importunities,  and  she 
too,  with  Mrs.  Ray,  was  taken  into  confidence.  It 
was  nearly  half-past  ten  when  at  last  the  doctor  drove 
up  with  the  post  surgeon's  team  and  double-seated 
carriage,  and,  just  as  Mrs.  Stannard  was  being 
handed  in,  and  numbers  of  interested  spectators  were 
looking  on  up  and  down  the  row,  there  cantered  into 
garrison  on  a  scrub  of  a  pony  a  youngster  who  used 
to  earn  a  precarious  livelihood  in  those  days  carry- 
ing travelers'  hand  luggage,  running  errands,  arid 
doing  odd  jobs  around  the  few  hotels  and  many  bar- 
rooms,  and  he  had  a  note  for  Mrs.  Barry,  addressed 
in  Nathalie's  small  and  tremulous  hand.  They 
took  it  in  to  her  at  once  and  she  opened  it. 

It  was  a  brief,  piteous,  yet  almost  imperative  de- 
mand for  twenty-five  dollars  to  be  sent  to  her  by 
the  bearer. 

The  doctor  shook  his  head.  Mrs.  Stannard 
looked  grave,  but  Mrs.  Barry  never  hesitated.  "  It's 
the  last  thing  she  would  ever  have  done  had  it  not 
been  vitally  necessary."  The  bills  were  placed  in 
an  envelope  with  a  few  lines  begging  her  to  be 
ready  to  see  Mrs.  Stannard  and  the  doctor  and  re- 
turn with  them  without  fail  if  by  that  time  she  had 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  119 

finished  what  had  to  be  done,  and  the  ragged 
Mercury  trotted  away  with  the  message  clutched  in 
a  dingy  hand — all  Eussell  wondering  the  while. 

Half  an  hour  later,  the  doctor,  leaving  Mrs.  Stan- 
nard  with  the  carriage  at  the  post  office,  strolled 
quietly  around  to  the  Empire  and  asked  to  see  the 
proprietor.  He  wasn't  in.  Maloney  then.  He'd 
just  gone  out  and  wouldn't  bo  back.  Then  could 
they  tell  him  where  he  could  find  Maloney  ?  No, 
they'd  no  idea  where  he'd  gone.  Evidently  infor- 
mation was  lacking  at  the  Empire,  but  a  happy 
thought  occurred  to  the  doctor.  Hannifin's  was 
just  across  the  way,  and  to  Hannifin's  he  went,  feel- 
ing well  assured  that  the  rivalry  between  the  estab- 
lishments would  prompt  some  one  at  the  latter  to 
tell  what  might  be  detrimental  of  the  other,  and  he 
was  right.  "  There  had  been  a  drunken  row  at  the 
Empire  late  last  night,"  said  Hannifin,  "  between 
toughs  that  wouldn't  be  allowed  in  a  respectable 
saloon  like  this,  for  instance.''  Two  fellows  were 
badly  cut,  and  others  were  wanted  by  the  city 
marshal,  but  Hannifin  could  only  tell  that  a  man 
called  Boston  was  mixed  up  in  it,  and  had  been 
slashed  by  somebody  else,  and  that  it  was  claimed 
that  the  whole  gang  were  strangers  in  Cheyenne, 
only  two  of  them  having  been  seen  there  before 
last  night.  Then  the  doctor  asked  if  any  of  Bostoa'a 


120  ^  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

people  had  been  seen,  and  they  hadn't.  So  far  as 
Hannifin  knew,  Boston  had  no  friends  or  relatives, 
nor  could  he  tell  where  he  was  now  in  hiding ;  even 
the  police,  what  there  was  of  them,  didn't  know 
that.  So  the  doctor  reluctantly  turned  away,  and 
after  reporting  his  ill  success  to  Mrs.  Stannard  it 
was  proposed  that  they  should  find  Rackets,  the  boy 
messenger,  and  question  him  again;  and  find  him 
they  did,  at  noon,  but  not  before,  and  his  story  was 
straight  as  a  string.  The  man  who  gave  him  the 
job  at  the  railway  platform  was  there  to  wait  for 
him  when  he  got  back.  He  took  the  package,  paid 
the  dollar  bargained  for,  and  walked  rapidly  away 
up  into  town.  Where  he'd  gone  Rackets  didn't 
know.  "Who  he  was  Rackets  didn't  know,  neither 
did  anybody  at  the  depot.  "  Him  and  two  other 
fellers"  had  reached  Cheyenne  by  the  Denver  train 
the  day  before. 

Troubled  and  perplexed,  these]  would-be  rescuers 
turned  their  horses'  heads  and  drove  back  into 
town,  hardly  knowing  what  to  do.  The  one  police 
official  the  doctor  had  an  acquaintance  with  was  at 
the  Railroad  House,  and  had  there  declared  that 
no  one  of  their  force  of  five  or  six  "  occasionals  " 
had  seen  anything  of  the  young  lady  or  knew  any- 
thing of  the  men,  but  they  were  straining  every 
nerve  to  know.  "What  we  do  know  is  that  there 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  121 

was  a  knife  fight  at  the  Empire  between  these 
strangers  and  this  fellow  Boston,  who's  been  knock- 
ing about  here  for  some  ten  days,  but  what  has  be- 
come of  him  is  more  than  we  can  find  out.  The 
town  is  full  of  strangers  getting  ready  for  the  Hills, 
and  we're  just  as  apt  to  run  in  the  wrong  man  as 
the  right  one.  What  we  hope  is  to  corral  them  on 
the  night  train.  But  where  they  carried  Boston  to 
after  he  was  knifed  is  what  gets  me." 

To  think  of  having  to  return  to  Mrs.  Barry  with  a 
report  so  meager  as  this  !  Mrs.  Stannard  could  not 
bear  it,  but  return  was  imperative,  for  the  doctor 
had  patients  who  needed  his  attention,  and  he  had 
not  seen  Maynard  at  all  that  day.  Reluctantly  they 
abandoned  the  investigation  after  a  few  more  words 
with  the  police  and  a  promise  to  return  that  after- 
noon if  nothing  were  heard  of  the  young  lady  in 
the  meantime.  Then  the  horses  were  headed  for 
the  open  prairie,  which  they  reached  at  a  spanking 
trot,  and  there,  far  out  across  the  breezy  level,  was 
trundling  briskly  toward  the  post  the  little  team  of 
grays  and  the  covered  spring-wagon  owned  by  an 
old  retired  soldier  who  had  a  ranch  near  byf  and 
before  the  surgeon's  well-matched  bays  had  covered 
half  the  distance  the  leading  equipage  disappeared 
within  the  gate,  and  ten  minutes  later  when  Mrs. 
Stannard  sadly  stepped  from  the  carriage  at  Mrs. 


122  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

Barry's  door  she  was  accosted  by  Mrs.  Turner,  who 
came  tripping  from  Miss  Maynard's  side  to  meet 
her  and  to  say  with  eager  dilation  of  the  eye  and 
parsings  of  the  mouth  : 

"  She's  back — sJie's  just  got  here.  "Where  on 
earth  can  she  have  been  ?" 

And  turning,  unsatisfying,  from  her  questioner, 
Mrs.  Stannard  rang  at  the  Barrys'  door  and  entered 
and  found  Nathalie  sobbing  her  heart  out  as  she 
knelt  by  Mrs.  Barry's  side,  encircled  by  that  lady's 
loving  arms. 

"I  declare,"  said  Mrs.  Turner  that  afternoon, 
"  there's  just  ten  times  as  much  mystery  and  misery 
about  this  old  post  when  the  men  are  away  as 
when  they're  here !"  for  that  night  the  doctor  had 
a  patient  at  Barrys'  who  needed  all  his  care — 
Nathalie's  strength  had  given  way  and  she  was  very 
ill  indeed. 

And  then  came  stirring,  thrilling  news  next  day 
from  the  front.  Both  battalions  of  the  — th,  diving 
after  the  Cheyennes  into  the  sand  hills,  had  sud- 
denly been  brought  to  bay.  Yellow  Wolf  and  his 
desperate  band,  finding  themselves  confronted,  so 
said  the  young  men  sent  far  out  in  advance,  by 
strong  forces  of  cavalry  and  infantry  from  the 
northern  agencies,  had  recoiled  to  certain  well- 
known  old  fastnesses  in  the  deep  breaks  to  the  south 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  123 

of  the  Niobrara,  and  in  recoiling  had  stumbled 
against  Stannard's  advance,  thereby  bringing  on  a 
sharp  and  rattling  fight  that  had  warmed  the  cockles 
of  the  old  campaigner's  heart  and  shown  even  his 
recruits  to  be  fellows  of  excellent  mettle.  All  the 
same,  Yellow  Wolf  was  in  no  mood  for  a  general 
melee,  or  he  could  have  made  it  hot  for  Stannard 
that  crisp  April  morning,  for  he  had  only  four 
troops,  Barry  being  some  miles  away  to  the  south- 
east. The  two  battalions  were  converging  as  they 
hastened  northward,  and  had  Yellow  Wolf  been  a 
strategist  he  had  excellent  opportunity  to  beat  his 
opponents  in  detail.  The  Indians,  however,  really 
wished  to  avoid  conflict  with  the  cavalry.  Every 
life  was  precious  in  the  long-badgered  and  fast- 
diminishing  tribe,  and  there  was  something  almost 
pathetic  in  the  efforts  of  the  old  chief  and  leader  of 
the  Cheyennes  to  get  his  people,  warriors,  women 
and  children,  safely  in  touch  with  their  kindred  of 
the  northern  tribe,  the  very  thing  which  the  Inte- 
rior Department  was  most  anxious  to  prevent. 

For  an  hour  his  young  men  had  kept  up  their 
dashing,  long  range  fight  with  Stannard's  skirmish 
line,  striving  to  kill  and  wound  as  many  of  the  sol- 
diers as  possible,  so  as  to  hamper  their  subsequent 
movements.  Others,  at  the  same  time,  far  to  the 
north,  kept  watch  over  the  slow  advance  of  the 


124  ^  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

force  from  the  agencies,  while  other  braves  still, 
safely  escorted  the  village — the  old  men,  women  and 
children — far  in  among  the  fastnesses  of  the  sand 
hills  to  the  west.  There,  as  among  the  Bad  Lands 
along  the  Dakota  border,  were  natural  fortifications, 
and  tortuous,  intricate  trails,  along  which  only  in 
single  file  could  pursuers  march,  and  twenty  braves 
could  hold  the  passage  against  a  regiment  of  sol- 
diers. So  perfectly  was  this  masked  from  the  sight 
of  the  cavalry,  cautiously  advancing  from  the  north, 
but  still  nearly  a  dozen  miles  away,  and  from  Stan- 
nard's  view,  thanks  to  the  intervening  ridges  at 
which  his  men  were  impetuously  dashing,  that 
when,  after  a  long  morning  of  skirmishing  with  not 
a  little  loss  to  officers,  men  and  mounts,  the  major 
ordered  the  recall  and  assembly  sounded  and  proper 
disposition  made  for  the  care  of  the  wounded,  noth- 
ing whatever  had  been  seen  of  the  flank  movement 
of  the  village.  An  hour  later,  just  about  one 
o'clock,  when  the  warriors  themselves  seemed  to 
have  drawn  away  from  his  widely  dispersed  skir- 
mishers now  formed  in  a  big  circle  about  the  pack 
train  and  wounded,  the  veteran  soldier  sent  an  offi- 
cer and  a  dozen  men  to  see  what  could  be  seen  from 
the  summit  of  a  butte  barely  a  mile  distant,  and 
almost  instantly  these  began  signaling,  and  pres- 
ently a  trooper  came  tearing  back  at  a  gallop. 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  125 

"The  cavalry  from  White  River,  sir,  the  lieutenant 
says.  You  can  see  'em  plain  not,  more  than  six  or 
eight  miles  off  to  the  north." 

"Damn  the  cavalry  from  "White  River!"  said 
Stannard  explosively.  "  Where  are  the  Indians  ?" 

"  None  in  sight,  sir,  anywhere." 

"Well,  then,  they've  got  to  their  holes  in  the 
sand  hills,  and  we'll  have  hell  to  pay  rooting  'em 
out,"  was  the  old  dragoon's  disgusted  outbreak. 

And  Stannard  was  a  true  prophet.  The  news 
that  reached  Russell  by  telegraph  that  fine  April 
evening  was  that  Colonel  Atherton  himself  had 
hastened  from  the  railway  Lorthward  to  the  field, 
that  Barry  was  ordered  to  close  in  on  Stannard, 
that  the  Indians  had  gotten  into  the  strongest  of 
their  strongholds,  and  that  war  to  the  knife  was  the 
least  that  could  be  expected.  Still,  with  Atherton 
in  general  command,  with  two  strong  battalions 
such  as  were  led  by  Barry  and  Stannard,  with  the 
strong  force  from  White  River,  all  in  the  field  in 
front  of  him,  perhaps  old  Yellow  Wolf  might  think 
it  best  to  surrender,  sure  as  he  was  of  kind  treat- 
ment— and  this  was  the  flattering  unction  laid  to  the 
souls  of  most  of  the  wives  and  mothers  at  Russell 
that  anxious  evening  when  the  list  of  casualties 
came  in  by  wire,  and  this  was  what  their  infantry 
friends  preached  and  propheised  and  what  they  all 


126  ^  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

tried  to  believe — all  but  poor  Maynard  who  felt 
sure  there  would  be  a  sharp  fight  all  because  he 
wasn't  there  to  win  his  spurs.  From  more  causes 
than  one  he  was  profoundly  unhappy,  feverish  and 
intractable,  and  the  doctor  had  to  chide  him  ear- 
nestly when  he  called  later  to  see  him. 

"  This  won't  do,  sir,"  was  the  medico's  rebuke. 
"  By  good  rights  you  ought  now  to  be  nearly  well 
enough  to  mount  and  ride,  but  you've  been  chafing, 
fretting  and  retarding  your  recovery.  I'm  not  so 
deficient  in  the  matter  of  patients  as  not  to  be  able 
to  spare  a  few,  and  you  ought  to  be  helping,  not 
hampering  me.  I  suppose  you  know  Miss  Baird  is 
quite  ill." 

"  Miss  Baird,"  stammered  Maynard,  his  face  fill- 
ing  instantly  with  anxiety,  his  fine  young  eyes 
clouding.  Not  a  word  had  Grace  said  to  him  upon 
the  subject. 

"  Yes.     You  knew  she  went  to  town  to-day?" 

"  I — heard  her  say  that  she  would  go,"  faltered 
the  lieutenant. 

"  Well,"  continued  the  doctor,  "  God  only  knows 
what  that  poor  child  has  been  going  through,  but 
she's  all  unstrung,  all  broken  up ;  and  though  she  has 
youth  and  strength  and  elasticity  in  her  favor,  and 
will  probably  recover  in  a  short  time,  she  is  utterly 
prostrated  to-night.  Now  if  you  were  only  able  to 
be  about— -^ 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  127 

"  I !"  interrupted  Maynard.  "  What  then  ?  You 
know  well  enough  that  I  am  fit  for  many  kinds 
of  work  even  now." 

u  Not  for  trailing  the  gang  of  sharps  that  we've 
searched  in  vain  for  to-day,"  said  the  doctor.  "  Even 
the  police  could  not  locate  them.  Yet,  some  one 
of  their  number  has  some  hold  on  that  poor  girl — 
the  big,  burly  tough  they  call  Boston,  I  fancy  ;  and 
after  getting  every  cent  of  her  earnings  he  gets  into 
a  knife  scrape  last  night,  has  been  stabbed,  sends 
for  her  and  asks  her  to  raise  twenty-five  dollars 
more  for  him,  and  then  sends  her  tottering  home, 
more  dead  than  alive.  I  suppose  the  money  is 
needed  to  buy  him  out  of  some  trouble,  and  start 
him  away  from  here,  but  that's  only  my  theory. 
She  will  not  tell  anything  about  him,  which  con- 
firms my  belief  that  he's  a  jail  bird.  Now  what  can 
a  girl  like  her  be  doing  with  a  man  like  that  ?" 

Maynard  winced  as  though  the  doctor  had  used 
an  actual  instead  of  a  verbal  probe. 

"  You  never  heard  her  speak  of  any  such  ?"  asked 
his  visitor,  eying  him  searchingly. 

"No,"  was  the  short  answer,  and  Maynard's  face 
looked  white  and  drawn.  He  arose  from  his  easy 
chair  and  limped  to  the  window  and  gazed  miserably 
out  upon  the  starlit  heavens  and  the  flickering 
lamps  across  the  dim  parade.  He  wished  the  doctor 


128  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

in  Jericho,  and  that  practitioner  was  not  slow  to 
see  it. 

""Well,  I'll  leave  you,  youngster,"  said  he  patron- 
izingly. "  What  you've  got  to  do  to  pull  out  of 
this  is  to  quit  fret  and  worry,  if  you  want  to  get 
after  the  field  column.  So  'long."  And  then  he 
went  trotting  down  the  stairs  where  feminine  voices 
had  been  heard  for  some  little  time  in  conversation. 
Mrs.  Stannard  was  away  with  Mrs.  Barry.  It  must 
then  be  Grace  Maynard  and  her  now  inseparable 
friend,  Mrs.  Turner.  The  latter  pounced  upon  the 
doctor  with  cooing  inquiry  for  "  poor  Miss  Baird," 
and  was  briefly  told  that  the  trouble  seemed  to  be 
nervous  prostration  more  than  anything  else. 
"  What  your  brother  needs  is  freedom  from  worry," 
he  began  at  once.  "  He  is  fretting  himself  into 
another  fever,"  and  the  doctor  turned  abruptly  to 
Miss  Maynard — he  couldn't  bear  Mrs.  Turner. 
"Now  I'm  going  to  send  over  a  sedative  that  he  is 
to  take,  for  he's  very  nervous  and  fretful  to-night." 

With  that,  and  blandly  unconscious  of  the  fact 
that  much  of  the  nervousness  was  due  to  his  own 
ministrations,  the  little  man  departed. 

"  Then  I'll  go  too,"  said  Mrs.  Turner,  in  her  drawl 
of  sisterly  sympathy.  "  I  know  you  must  be  long- 
ing to  be  with  him,  but  I'll  come  first  thing  in  the 
morning.  Isn't  it  dreadful?"  She  paused  as  the 


A  GARlilSOtf  TANGLE.  129 

door  was  opened  for  her  and  glanced  out  inio  outer 
darkness  with  a  shudder.  "  Isn't  it  dreadful  to  have 
no  one  to  walk  home  with  ? — no  man,  I  mean,-'  she 
hastily  added,  as  Miss  Maynard  took  down  the 
major's  cape,  which  she  had  fallen  quite  into  the 
way  of  wearing1. 

A  little  later  brother  and  sister  were  alone  to- 
gether. He  had  been  reading  over  a  letter  and 
stowed  it  in  the  pocket  of  his  dressing-gown  as  she 
entered. 

'  I  missed  the  orderly  with  the  mail  to-day,  Ron 
aid.  Did  you  hear  from  father  ?"  she  asked. 

He  shook  his  head,  but  made  no  other  reply. 

"  Well,  wasn't  that  a  letter  ?"  she  asked,  with  a 
glance  at  the  gaping  pocket. 

"  Yes,  but  not  from  him,  Grace.  And  I  must  tell 
you  again,  I  am  so  troubled  about  him.  You  ought 
to  be  there,  not  here.  There  is  no  excuse  whatever 
for  your  remaining  a  burden  on  Mrs.  Stannard " 

"  How  can  you  say  so,  Ronald  ?  Who  could  nurse 
you  were  I  not  here  ?" 

"  I  could  do  very  well.  There  is  no  further  dan- 
ger. The  doctor  says  I  can  be  out  in  a  very  few 
days.  Father  has  no  one  but  Aunt  Willett  to  care 
for  him  there ' 

"  He  has  Gertrude,  who  is  sweetness  and  devotion 
itself,  whom  he  loves  as  he  would  his  own  daughter, 


130  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

as  he  hoped — as  I  hoped,  yes,  and  expected,  Ronald — 
she  would  and  should  be,  or  that  at  least  she  should 
and  we  should,  have  your  assurance  by  this  time 
that  that  was  your  intention.  You  know  it  has 
long  been  the  dearest  wish  of  your  fathers  heart." 

"  I  do  not  know  it,  Grace,  nor  do  I  believe  it.  He 
never  so  much  at  hinted  at  such  a  thing.  You 
alone,"  said  Maynard,  his  cheeks  flushing  and  withan 
angry  light  in  his  eyes  as  he  rose  from  his  chair, 
"you  alone  persist  in  this  scheme — I  don't  know 
-what  else  to  call  it — and  I  don't  think  Gertrude 
would  thank  you  in  the  least." 

"  Gertrude  had  every  right  short  of  a  positive  en- 
gagement to  consider  herself  pledged  to  you  and 
you  to  her,  Ronald,  and  not  until  you  met  this 
stranger,  of  whom  you  know  nothing  that  is  not 
most  unsatisfactory,  to  say  the  least " 

"Grace!" 

"  Oh,  I  know  how  infatuated  a  boy  can  be,  and 
that  is  why  I  stand  here,  as  I  have  time  and  again 
in  your  past,  a  shield  between  you  and  harm  or  pun- 
ishment. Ronald !  Ronald !  for  the  sake  of  all  those 
years,"  she  cried,  softening  and  tearful  now,  as  she 
clasped  her  thin  hands  and  bent  yearningly  toward 
him.  "  Listen  to  me,  my  brother.  Don't  make  me 
say  harsh  things  about  an  unfortunate  girl.  Don't 
force  from  me  what  I  know.  But  do  you  not  un- 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  131 

derstand  why  I  cannot  leave  you  now  ?  It  is  dread, 
Ronald,  dread  lest  you  become  utterly  entangled  in 
that — in  that  girl's  toils,  and  bring  shame  and  ruin 
to  us  all." 

"  Not  another  word,  Grace,  not  another  word  1" 
he  exclaimed,  angrily  drawing  away  from  her.  In 
her  pleading  she  had  caught  up  the  cord  and  tassel 
of  his  flowered  gown — her  own  manufacture,  her 
own  gift — and  he  fairly  snatched  them  from  her 
hands.  "  I  will  believe  no  ill  of  her.  I  know  every- 
thing that  has  taken  place  to-day.  I  know  of  her 
going  to  town  to  see  that  fellow.  He  is  some  blood 
relation,  some  luckless,  reckless  outcast  from  home, 
and  I'll  swear  to  it." 

"  Eeckless  and  outcast  he  may  be,  Ronald,  but  he 
is  that  girl's  lover— and  I  know  it." 


132  A  GARRISON  TANGLE 


'CHAPTER  X. 

As  HAS  been  said  before,  the  time  that  some  women 
— indeed  some  old  women  of  both  sexes — select  to 
tell  a  fellow  the  news  that  is  bound  to  hurt  and 
sting  and  worry  him  most,  is  when  he  is  already 
nearly  knocked  out,  and  therefore  cannot  get  from 
under.  In  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  in  her 
righteous  indignation,  and  in  the  serene  conscious- 
ness of  the  justice  of  her  sacred  cause,  Miss  Maynard 
had  quite  forgotten,  or  at  least  ignored,  the  doctor's 
parting  admonition,  and  the  fatal  words  were  said. 
She  knew  now  that  she  must  prove  her  words  or  lose 
her  case.  It  was  no  longer  a  question  of  how  much 
Ronald  might  be  fretting  or  how  great  might  be  his 
excitement.  He  had  heard  just  so  much  that  noth- 
ing would  satisfy  him  but  the  truth  and  the  whole 
truth  as  known  to  her.  She  must  face  the  music 
and  give  her  authority  for  the  statement  or  her  last 
hold  on  her  brother's  trust  was  gone. 

There  he  stood  grasping  the  back  of  the  chair, 
swaying  a  little  from  weakness  and  shock,  staring 
ft  her  with  his  fine,  bright  eyes,  now  so  full  of 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  133 

misery  and  incredulity  and  challenge.  His  face  was 
almost  ashen.  He  choked  as  at  last  he  spoke  : 

"  He  may  have  been  an  admirer — any  man 
might ;  but  you— you  say,  her  lover.  That,  too,  he 
may  have  been  before  his  break-down.  That  is  no 
disgrace  to  her.  She  is  helping  him  for  what  he 
was — not  for  what  he  is."  And  still  he  gazed  im- 
ploringly. So  many  years  he  had  hung  upon  that 
sister's  words  and  never  doubted  her.  "  You  can- 
not mean — there  is  anything  between  them — that — 
that " 

"I  mean  that  she  would  follow  him  to-morrow, if 
it  were  not  to  jail,  and  that  she  loves  him  yet." 

For  a  moment  all  was  silence,  except  that  he  was 
breathing  hard.  "  You  have  your  proofs,  of  course," 
he  said.  "  Go  on." 

"Not  to-night,  Eonald,"  she  pleaded.  "The 
doctor  said " 

"  Never  mind  what  the  doctor  said ! — that  I  was 
not  to  be  agitated,  I  suppose,  as  though  I  were  some 
hysterical  woman.  Go  on,  I  say.  You  can't 
agitate  me  any  more  than  you  have,  and  I  want  to 
get  to  the  bottom  of  this  at  once.  Who  is  your 
authority  ?  Don't  quote  Mrs.  Turner — that  would 
be  too  ridiculous." 

But  fortune  came  to  her  aid.  There  was  a  sudden 
ring  at  the  gong  bell  on  the  hall  door  below.  The 


134  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

servant  had  retired.  Mrs.  Stannard  was  still  at  the 
Barry's,  next  door.  Miss  Maynard  had  to  go  down 
and  answer  the  summons.  It  was  the  orderly  from 
headquarters. 

"  Dispatches  still  coming1  in,  miss,"  he  said,  "  and 
here's  one  for  Mrs.  Stannard  " 

"  She's  next  door — Oh,  but  wait !"  said  Miss 
Maynard,  a  sudden  thought  occurring-  to  her.  "  It 
may  disturb  Miss  Baird  if  you  go  there  and  ring. 
Have  you  anything-  for  Mrs.  Barry.  I  can  take 
both." 

"  Yes,  mum,"  was  the  answer,  as  the  young  soldier 
searched  through  the  packet  of  brown  envelopes  in 
his  hand. 

"  I'll  be  back  in  a  moment,  Ronald,"  she  called  up 
the  stairs.  Then  leaving-  him  alone — angering-,  in- 
credulous, yet  miserable,  Miss  Maynard  took  the 
dispatches  and,  tapping  lightly  at  the  door  of  the 
neighboring  quarters,  noiselessly  let  herself  in. 
Mrs.  Stannard  met  her  in  the  parlor. 

"  I  took  these  from  the  orderly,"  whispered  Miss 
Maynard.  "  It  seemed  better  that  I  should  come 
in  with  them  than  that  he  should  ring." 

But  with  brief  apology,  Mrs.  Stannard  had 
already  torn  open  the  envelope  and  was  reading  her 
dispatch.  It  was  from  the  major,  of  course,  pen- 
ciled after  the  long  morning  of  excitement,  and 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  135 

sent  in  to  the  railway  by  a  courier,  galloping  back 
with  dispatches.  It  contained  merely  a  few  re- 
assuring words.  "  All  well,  barring  a  few  casualties 
already  reported.  We  will  be  strongly  reinforced 
to-morrow." 

Then  the  major's  wife  glanced  up  at  her  guest. 
"  Mrs.  Barry  had  just  dropped  off  into  a  doze,"  she 
whispered.  "  I  feel  sure  her  message  is  to  the  same 
purport  as  mine,  and  that  I  ought  not  to  rouse  her. 
She  can  read  it  by  and  by.  How  is  Mr.  Maynard 
to-night  2" 

"  He  is  very  nervous  and  excited,"  was  her  reply. 
"  All  these  rumors  from  the  front  make  him  eager 
to  join  his  comrades,  and  I  cannot  keep  him  quiet 
or  content.  And — your  other  patient?"  she  con- 
tinued, with  an  upward  glance. 

"  Poor  child !  She  is  badly  shaken.  Mrs.  Free- 
man is  sitting  with  her  and  striving  to  soothe  her, 
but  she  was  wide  awake  awhile  ago  and  very  nerv- 
ous and  wretched.  I  fear  she  will  have  little  or  no 
sleep  this  night.  Now  do  not  sit  up  for  me,  Miss 
Maynard.  Leave  the  door  on  the  latch,  and  I'll 
come  in  quietly  by  and  by.  I  shall  stay  here  until 
after  midnight.  Mrs.  Freeman  must  go  home  pres- 
ently. She  cannot  stay  away  from  her  children  all 
night,  3Tou  know." 

"  Oh,  I  should  be  most  glad  if  I  could  be  of  serv- 


136  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

ice — either  with  Mrs.  Barry  or  with — with  Miss 
Baird,"  faltered  Miss  Maynard  presently.  "  Konald 
really  doesn't  need  me  at  all." 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you,"  was  the  courteous  an- 
swer, "but  everybody  realizes  your  first  duty  is  to 
your  brother.  Is  there  anything  he  fancies  to- 
night? You  know  where  to  find  everything  we 
have,  so  I  can  depend  on  you  not  to  wait  to  ask. 
Just  help  yourself." 

And  then  Mrs.  Stannard  stood  as  though  she 
wished  to  bring  the  conversation  to  an  end  and  re- 
turn to  her  sleeping  patient,  but  Miss  Maynard  still 
faltered.  She  was  fencing  for  time.  She  did  not 
wish  to  go  home  yet.  She  would  have  to  face 
Ronald  and  answer  his  questions. 

And  in  the  midst  of  the  awkward  pause  a  light 
footfall  was  heard  on  the  stairs.  It  was  Mrs. 
Freeman. 

"  I'm  sure  dispatches  have  come,"  she  murmured 
as  she  joined  them.  "  What  is  the  news  ?" 

Silently  Mrs.  Stannard  handed  her  the  open  paper, 
which  Mrs.  Freeman  eagerly  read. 

"  Well,  then  there  must  be  one  for  me,"  she  whis- 
pered. "  Would  you  mind  going  up  and  sitting 
with  Nathalie  a  moment  ?"  she  asked  of  Mrs.  Stan- 
nard. "  I  will  just  hurry  home  and  get  what  may 
have  come — and  a  peep  at  the  children,  and  return 
in  five  minutes. 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  187 

And  then  from  the  inner  room  Mrs.  Barry's 
voice,  low  and  gentle,  was  heard,  demanding  news, 
and  Mrs.  Stannard  hastened  to  her  side. 

"  Fll  go  to  Miss  Baird,  Mrs.  Freeman,"  whispered 
Grace  Maynard.  "  Go  home  by  all  means,  and  do 
not  come  back  if  you  do  not  feel  like  it.  I  should 
be  glad  to  sit  up  with  the  poor  girl.  I'm  thoroughly 
accustomed  to  nursing." 

Mrs.  Freeman  looked  troubled  and  perplexed  a 
moment,  listened  for  sounds  from  aloft,  said  vaguely 
"You're  very  kind.  I — I  think  the  doctor's 
medicines  are  taking  effect  and  that  she  is  dozing 
off.  I  shan't  be  any  time  at  all."  So  saying  the 
little  matron  let  herself  out  at  the  front  door  and 
hastened  down  the  row.  Grace,  after  listening  a 
moment,  slowly  and  softly  ascended  the  stairs,  and 
noiselessly  entered  the  sick-room. 

There  in  her  little  white  bed  lay  the  patient,  her 
wan  face  turned  away  from  the  dim  night-light, 
nervously  tapping  the  counterpane  with  her  slender 
hand.  She  did  not  turn,  she  did  not  speak  as  the 
newcomer  entered.  Only  by  the  restless  movement 
of  the  hand  and  an  occasional  impatient  toss  and, 
sigh  did  she  show  that  she  was  awake  and  tor- 
mented by  her  thoughts. 

It  had  been  Miss  Maynard's  intention  to  speak 
and  explain  the  situation.  The  words  were  on  her 


138  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

lips  as  she  entered  the  room,  but,  seeing  that  no 
apparent  notice  was  taken  of  her  coming,  she  hesi- 
tated, then  decided  not  to  explain  or  to  speak  at  all 
until  somebody  or  something  should  show  that 
Nathalie  had  discovered  it  was  not  Mrs.  Freeman. 
It  might  be  embarrassing,  to  .say  the  least.  The 
strange  girl  had  never  liked  her.  had  always  avoided 
and  even  shrunk  from  her.  It  might  only  add 
to  her  agitation  and  distress  to  find  a  stranger  seated 
by  her  bedside.  Indeed  Miss  Maynard  could 
think  of  a  dozen  reasons  for  silence,  and  so,  quietly 
seating  herself  in  the  chair  left  vacant  by  Mrs. 
Freeman,  she  glanced  over  the  little  array  of  vials, 
glasses,  etc.,  left  by  the  doctor,  noted  that  the  shade 
of  the  kerosene  lamp  was  carefully  adjusted  so  as 
to  protect  the  invalid's  eyes  from  the  light,  and  then 
began  a  quiet  study  of  the  little  room  and  its  simple 
furnishings. 

It  was  very  like  the  one  she  herself  occupied  at 
the  Stannards,  next  door.  The  two  majors  were 
quartered  in  one  big  frame  house  with  a  party  wall, 
the  hallways  being  on  the  outer  side,  and  the  house 
itself  differing  from  those  in  which  the  captains  and 
lieutenants  were  quartered  in  that  it  had  a  little 
extra  room  on  each  side  under  a  "lean-to"  outside  the 
hall,  and  that  the  bedroom  on  the  ground  floor  was 
made  large  and  commodious,  extending  from 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

the  end  of  the  lean-to  crosswise  to  the  dining-room. 
Both  Barrys  and  Stannards  preferred  their  ground 
floor  bedroom  because  the  stairs  were  steep  and 
narrow,  and  Mrs.  Barry  would  have  chosen  it  any- 
way, she  being  too  much  of  an  invalid  to  climb. 
When  the  Barrys  moved  from  Fort  Fred  Winthrop 
to  Russell,  and  into  their  quarters  adjoining  the 
Stannards,  Nathalie  had  gratefully  accepted  the 
second  floor  front  as  her  bower,  and  had  fitted  it  up 
very  prettily  and  lived  there  for  awhile,  as  we 
know,  very  happily.  Then  came  the  episode  of  the 
pebble  throwing  and  the  bulky,  burly  stranger  who 
joined  her  on  the  prairie  walk,  and  then  Nathalie 
had  shown  an  unlooked-for  timidity.  She  asked 
Mrs.  Barry  if  she  might  move  into  the  rear  room, 
whose  dormer  windows  looked  out  over  the  prairie, 
and  Mrs.  Barry  promptly  acquiesced,  though  point- 
ing out  to  her  that,  if  she  had  been  annoyed  or 
alarmed  by  anything  taking  place  in  front  it  was 
even  easier  for  some  one  to  approach  the  rear  than 
the  front  window.  But  Nathalie  said  that  wasn't 
the  reason.  It  might  only  be  a  whim.  At  all 
events  she  could  not  there,  in  the  back  room,  hear 
the  band  when  it  played  wicked  waltz  music  on 
Sunday,  suggested  Mrs.  Barry,  with  a  smile. 
Nathalie  thanked  her  in  her  heart  of  hearts 
for  asking  no  questions,  and  had  told  her  no  lies. 


140  A  GfARRItiOtf  TANGLE. 

For  nearly  a  week  now  she  had  been  occupying 
this  rftar  room  looking  out  over  the  unlovely  land- 
scape of  backyard,  broken  fence,  barren  prai- 
rie and  hospital  grounds.  Yet  so  wakeful  had  she 
become,  so  troubled  her  sleep,  that  she  had  almost 
instantly  heard  the  Milesian  mouthings  of  the  Em- 
pire's bouncer  that  fateful  morning,  and  hurrying 
into  wrapper  and  slippers  and  almost  any  loose  gar- 
ments, had  hastened  down  to  still  his  clamor  and 
protect  her  protector  from  the  possibility  of  a  scene. 
When  Maynard  was  brought  back  to  the  post 
from  his  room  at  the  hotel,  Major  Stannard  had 
promptly  placed  the  front  room  of  his  quarters  at 
his  disposal  as  being  the  one  best  suited  to  an  in- 
valid, and  had  hospitably  bidden  the  sister  to  occupy 
the  one  in  the  rear.  She  thanked  her  entertainers 
very  properly,  indeed  very  gratefully,  and  told  them 
then  that  just  as  soon  as  Ronald  was  well  enough 
for  her  to  leave  him  she  must  hasten  back  to  resume 
the  care  of  her  father.  Ronald  had  now  been  well 
enough  for  her  to  leave  for  several  days,  but  Miss 
Maynard  had  not  begun  to  pack  her  trunks,  nor  was 
there  anything  in  Mrs.  Stannard's  manner,  even 
after  the  intimacy  with  Mrs.  Turner  began  to  glow 
at  white  heat,  to  indicate  that  she  was  wearying  of 
her  guest.  Mrs.  Turner,  of  course,  fluttered  in  and 
out  as  though  conferring  blessings  on  the  rooftree. 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  141 

It  could  never  by  any  human  possibility  occur  to 
her  that  she  would  be  unwelcome  anywhere,  and  it 
was  she  who  silenced  the  faint  scruples  which  Miss 
Maynard  confessed  to,  and  bade  her  rest  assured 
that  the  Stannards  were  only  too  glad  to  have  her 
stay  and  take  care  of  Mr.  Maynard,  as  otherwise 
they  would  have  to  do  it  themselves. 

It  was  very  late — nearly  half-past  eleven — when 
Miss  Maynard  took  her  seat  by  Nathalie's  bedside 
and  began  her  survey  of  the  dimly  lighted  room 
A  bureau  with  mirror  and  toilet-stand  was  againsf 
the  wall  next  the  entrance  door.  A  little  couch 
extended  across  the  north  end  of  the  room  under 
some  bookshelves.  The  dormer  window,  daintily 
ch-aped,  was  almost  at  the  foot  of  the  couch.  The 
washstand  and  a  little  mirror  stood  near  the  foot  of 
the  bed.  Nathalie's  trunk,  covered  with  a  Navajo 
blanket,  was  against  the  wall  beyond  the  washstand, 
and  quite  a  tall,  wardrobe-like  arrangement  for 
skirts  and  gowns  was  built  against  the  partition  be- 
tween the  front  and  rear  rooms.  Everything  looked 
dim  and  indistinct  in  the  faint  light  near  the  bed- 
side, and  before  seating  herself  Miss  Maynard  had 
moved  the  chair  so  that  instead  of  facing  the  silent 
patient  she  had  the  little  table  between  her  and  the 
bed,  and  here,  her  hands  crossed  idly  in  her  lap,  she 
sat  some  time,  glancing  about  the  room,  thinking 


143        •  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

over  with  fluttering  heart  her  exciting  and  troublous 
interview  with  Ronald,  listening  for  any  sound  from 
the  invalid  to  indicate  that  her  services  were  needed, 
thinking  of  the  strange  array  of  circumstances  that 
had  brought  her  to  the  bedside  of  this  dangerous 
girl,  this  unknown  maiden  who  had  stolen  her 
brother's  heart  and  lured  him  from  what  the  sister 
chose  to  consider  the  path  of  love,  honor  and  duty ; 
and  all  the  time  vaguely  wondering  whether  it 
might  not  be  providential — if  it  might  indeed  not 
have  been  planned  that  she  should  thus  be  thrown 
into  intimate  relations  with  the  invader  and  de- 
stroyer of  all  her  most  cherished  plans — if  in  truth  it 
might  not  have  been  one  of  the  mysterious  dispensa- 
tions of  Divine  Providence  that  she  should  now  be 
here  given  full  opportunity  to  strike  a  blow  for  right 
and  justice — for  gentle  Gertrude,  patient  and  un- 
complaining, yet  suffering  at  home — for  Ralph,  her 
hero  lover,  silent  in  the  grave — ay,  even  for  her 
beloved  brother's  sake,  bewitched  and  blinded  as  he 
might  be  now,  would  he  not  later  bless  and  thank 
her  for  whatever  she  now  might  do  to  break  his 
chains  ? 

And  pondering  with  rapidly  beating  heart  over 
all  these  things,  Grace  Maynard  noted  that  full  half 
an  hour  had  gone  by,  and  Mrs.  Freeman  had  not 
returned.  It  was  fate. 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  143 

Away  over  at  the  guardhouse  the  sentry  was 
calling  the  midnight  hour.  There  was  a  stir  on  the 
lower  floor,  and  Mrs.  Stannard's  footsteps  were 
heard  as  she  swept  through  the  parlor  into  the  hall; 
then,  low  and  cautious,  her  voice  was  heard : 

"  Miss  Maynard !" 

The  young  woman  quickly  arose  and  hastened  to 
the  landing  at  the  head  of  the  stairs. 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Stannard.    What  is  it  ?" 

"I  fear  something  has  detained  Mrs.  Freeman. 
It  is  time  for  Nathalie  to  take  the  medicine  the 
doctor  left  for  her — one  teaspoonf ul  in  a  little  water 
from  the  vial  that  stands  in  the  saucer.  Is  she 
awake  ?" 

"  I  think  so.    I  will  give  it  to  her." 

"  Thank  you  ever  so  much.  "We  are  so  fortunate 
in  having  you  here.  I  will  go  back  to  Mrs.  Barry 
then.  Don't  you  sit  up  after  she  goes  to  sleep." 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  mind  it  in  the  least,  Mrs.  Stannard. 
You  know  I've  been  somebody's  nurse  for  years." 

With  that  she  returned  to  the  bedside,  and  now, 
in  her  white  nightdress,  wide-eyed,  startled,  ques- 
tioning, Nathalie  was  leaning  on  her  elbow  staring 
at  her. 

"  Mrs.  Freeman  had  to  run  home  a  few  minutes 
ago  and  left  me  to  give  you  your  medicine,  Miss 
Baird,"  said  Grace  promptly,  and  in  soothing  tone, 


144  ^  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

her  deft  fingers  the  while  pouring  out  and  mixing 
the  draught.  "I  hope  you  are  feeling  better." 

She  approached  and  would  have  passed  an  arm 
about  the  girl's  slim  shoulders  to  support  her,  but 
Nathalie  seemed  to  draw  away, 

"I  thank  you  very  much,"  was  the  nervous, 
faltering  reply,  "  but  indeed,  indeed  I  need  no  one 
— no  one,  and  surely  you — oh,  you  must  not  let  me 
keep  you  from  your  brother,  Miss  Maynard !  He 
needs  you  far  more  than  I  do."  She  sipped  the 
liquid  handed  her,  and  sank  back  upon  the  pillow, 
but  her  eyes  again  sought  the  face  of  her  nurse. 
"You  ought  not  to  be  away  from  him.  I  heard — 
they  told  me — he  was  not  so  well." 

"  I  fear — he  is  not  doing  as  we  could  wish.  He 
seems —  The  trouble  is  he's  fretting  and  un- 
happy." 

"  Mrs.  Stannard  told  me,"  interposed  the  girl,  her 
eyes  taking  on  a  sudden  light,  her  cheeks  faintly 
coloring,  her  heart  beating  quickly.  "  He  is  longing 
to  go  with  his  regiment,  I  know,  and  it  chafes  him 
to  be  held  here." 

Miss  Maynard  turned  and  looked  at  the  wan, 
wistful  little  face,  so  haggard  through  care  and 
suffering,  a  sight  to  move  a  woman's  heart  to  pity, 
but  for  those  fatal  signs — the  sudden  color  in  the 
soft  cheeks,  the  almost  eager  light  in  the  kindling 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  145 

eyes,  the  nervous,  slender  fingers  clutching  at  the 
front  of  her  snow-white  gown,  hardly  whiter  than 
the  delicately  rounded  throat  it  encircled.  Miss 
Maynard  seated  herself  deliberately  at  the  foot  of 
the  bed.  "  Yes,"  she  said,  fixing  her  eyes  on  the 
dim  night  light,  "  and  there  are  other  things,  poor 
boy." 

The  other  white  hand  stole  to  the  girl's  forehead 
and  covered  her  eyes,  but  she  remained  silent. 
Presently  Miss  Maynard  continued,  speaking  in  the 
conventional  phraseology  she  had  learned  in  young 
lady  days.  "  You  see,  it  is  very  hard  for  a  young 
man  like  him  to  know  that  the  object  of  his  affec- 
tions is  lying  ill,  at  home,  and  all  through  anxiety 
on  his  account." 

The  white  hand  at  the  throat  had  ceased  its  rest- 
Jess  toying,  but  the  heart  beneath  that  snowy  bosom 
was  beating  tumultuously. 

"Indeed,  I  suppose,"  said  Miss  Maynard  diffi- 
dently, "  I  ought  not  to  speak  of  it  to  a  compara- 
tive stranger,  but  everybody  here  has  been  so  kind 
to  him,  perhaps  they  think  him  ungrateful  for  all 
their  goodness,  but  it  isn't  that.  Duty  with  his 
regiment  draws  him  one  way,  but  all  the  time  he  is 
longing  to  get  back,  with  me,  to  Gertrude  Bonner. 
She's  such  3  lovely  girl,  I  don't  wonder." 


H6  -*  GARRISON  TANGLE. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

I 

A  WEEK  rolled  by,  uneventful  enough  at  Russell } 

but  full  of  mischief  in  the  field.  Hemmed  in  among 
the  sand  hills,  and  feeling  the  toils  closing  about 
him  with  fatal  pressure  by  the  second  day,  Yellow- 
Wolf  had  had  recourse  to  diplomacy,  and  the 
aborigine  is  a  past  master  of  the  art — a  man  to 
whom  Metternich  and  Talleyrand  might  have  bowed 
in  envious  contemplation.  Sending  a  squaw  to  the 
nearest  picket  post  of  the  enemy,  which  happened 
to  be  on  the  north  side,  the  Indian  chief  asked  for 
a  talk,  and  later  that  day,  in  solemn  dignity  and  all 
the  panoply  of  war  paint  and  feathers,  he  appeared 
with  a  retinue  of  sub-chiefs,  and,  gravely  dismount- 
ing in  the  circle  of  officers  and  soldiers  drawn  up 
to  meet  him,  he  strode  forward,  erect  and  proud  and 
powerful  still,  a  splendid  specimen  of  the  plains- 
bred  warrior,  then  halted  in  front  of  the  command- 
ing officer,  as  though  bidding  him  step  forward  and 
come  the  rest  of  the  way.  Atherton  was  not  there. 
He,  with  his  two  battalions,  Barry  and  Stannard, 
was  carefully,  closely  watching  the  Indian  position 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  147 

from  the  south  and  east.  It  might  all  only  be  a 
trick,  a  blind,  under  cover  of  which  the  wily  chief 
would  attempt  to  run  off  his  village  through  the 
mazes  of  the  sand  hills,  and,  favored  by  the  rapidly 
descending  wings  of  night,  slip  away  around  the 
right  flank  of  the  cavalry  and  infantry  from  the 
White  River  agencies,  and  be  off  and  away  to  join 
the.  Northern  Cheyennes.  If  he  could  make  his 
quarrel  theirs,  with  their  united  warriors  they  could 
laugh  at  the  combined  forces  in  the  field. 

But  out  there  on  the  rolling  slopes  to  the  north, 
with  the  broad  valley  of  the  Niobrara  stretching 
miles  away  toward  the  horizon,  the  scene  was 
picturesque  and  even  barbaric.  Dismounted  from 
their  gayly  caparisoned  ponies,  Yellow  "Wolf  and 
his  principal  warriors,  fearless,  and  bearing  them- 
selves even  now  as  conquerors,  towered  in  a 
feathered,  painted,  brilliant  group,  the  center  of  a 
somber  ring  of  soldiery.  The  chief  himself  stood  a 
few  paces  advanced  from  his  followers,  and  his 
glance,  haughty  and  almost  defiant,  was  fixed  on, 
the  gray-haired,  mottle-faced  officer  whom  long 
years  of  rather  inconspicuous  service  had  lifted  to 
the  command.  The  colonel  knew  little  of  Indians 
or  of  Indian  character.  Fate  had  found  him  at  the 
agencies  when  the  order  was  telegraphed  to  "  hustle 
out "  every  available  officer  and  man  and  head  off 


148  A  OAERI80N  TANGLE. 

those  Southern  Cheyennes.  He  was  surrounded 
by  his  subordinates,  most  of  whom  had  spent  long 
years  among  the  Indians  and  were  far  better 
calculated  to  deal  with  them,  and  to  one  of  these,  a 
keen-featured  captain  of  infantry,  he  turned  and 
whispered. 

"  "What's  the  old  rip  waiting  for  ?" 

"  You  must  step  forward — meet  him  halfway- 
shake  hands,"  was  the  whispered  answer.  Rather 
sheepishly,  a  marked  contrast  to  the  savage  chief 
in  bearing  and  demeanor,  the  colonel,  with  his 
thumbs  stuck  in  his  waist  belt,  lounged  forward, 
and,  assuming  an  affable  grin,  stopped  when  he 
neared  Yellow  Wolf  and,  slowly  withdrawing  the 
right  hand  from  his  belt,  shifted  his  quid  of  tobacco 
to  the  other  cheek,  blushed  as  though  he  knew  he 
were  making  a  mess  of  it,  and  held  forth  his  hand. 

"Wolf  glanced  first  at  the  extended  hand  and  then 
at  the  soldier's  perturbed  face,  something  almost 
contemptuous  shooting  across  his  own  swarthy 
features.  Then  slowly  raising  his  right  hand  he  as 
coolly  brought  the  fingers  of  the  left  close  to  the 
finger  tips  of  the  other,  and  began  in  excellent 
pantomime  the  motion  of  pulling  off  a  glove  and 
casting  it  aside.  The  whole  action  was  significant. 
Turning  redder  yet,  the  colonel  hastily  jerked  his 
gauntlet  from  his  knotty  digits,  and  again  held 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  149 

forth  his  hand.  This  time  the  warrior  con- 
descended. Striding  forward,  erect  and  dignified 
as  ever,  he  seized  the  colonel's  paw  and  gave  it  a 
wrench  that  made  the  veteran  wince,  whereat  some 
of  the  younger  Indians  nearly  laughed  aloud,  and 
there  was  an  audible  titter  among  the  soldiers. 
This  formality  concluded  the  colonel  proceeded 
to  shake  hands  with  each  of  the  warriors  in  the 
suite  of  Yellow  Wolf,  saying,  as  he  had  heard 
brother  officers  greet  the  Ogallala  braves  at  the 
fort,  "How,  Colah,"  which  wasn't  Cheyenne  at  all, 
but  Sioux,  or  a  colloquial  modification  thereof. 
However,  it  seemed  to  pass  muster  among  the 
visitors,  with  whom  certain  others  of  the  officers 
shook  hands  and  exchanged  cordial  greetings. 
They  were  old  acquaintances. 

And  then  at  a  word  from  Yellow  Wolf  his  follow- 
ers seated  themselves  in  the  arc  of  a  circle,  all  save 
one,  an  Indian  as  thoroughbred-looking  as  the  chief, 
who  remained  close  to  the  latter's  side,  who  bent 
attentive  ear  to  the  words  spoken  in  low  voice  by 
his  leader,  and  then  addressed  himself  in  excellent 
English  to  the  colonel: 

"Yellow  Wolf  has  come  to  talk  with  the  com- 
mander  of  the  white  soldiers.  But  we  have  no 
meat.  We  are  poor  and  hungry.  Our  children  cry 
for  food." 


150  A  GARRISON  TAN  OLE. 

"  Order  dinner  for  the  dozen,  colonel,"  whispered 
the  captain,  coming  to  his  side.     "  There  can  be  no 
talk  till  you  do."   And  over  an  hour  was  consumed 
while  the  chief  and  his  friends  were  being  fed  and 
comforted,  a  proceeding  that  took  three  times  the 
amount  of  bacon  and  hard-tack,  coffee  and  suga? 
that  would  have  satisfied  the  stomachs  of  many  i 
hungry  white  man.    Meantime  the  sun  was  sinking 
toward  the  horizon,  and  old  Stannard,  with  Athei 
ton's  permission,  came  spurring  up  from  the  soutl 
east  to  inquire,  as  he  did  in  terse  language,  what 
the  devil  was  the  matter,  and  why  in  the  devil's 
abiding  place  they  were  wasting  so  much  valuable 
time.    Being  informed  that  Yellow  Wolf  had  de- 
clared himself  poor  and  hungry,  and  had  uegged  for 
food  as  preliminary  to  the  council,  Stannard  ripped 
out  an  explosive  protest.     "  The  old  scoundrel  is 
only  playing  you !"  said  he  to  the  colonel.     "  He's 
sparring  for  wind  and  time,  don't  you  see?    He 
knows  we're  right  in  on  top  of  him  now,  by  dint  of 
two  days'  siege  work,  and  that  we  could  attack  now 
with  every  prospect  of  giving  them  a  thrashing. 
He's  just  standing  you  off  until  sunset,  colonel. 
For  God's  sake,  send  him.  to  the  right  about.     Tell 
him  the  talk  is  over,  and  that  we  mean  to  attack  at 
once.     If  you  don't,  he'll  slip  out  somewhere  to- 
night, sure  1" 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  151 

But  the  colonel  felt  his  honor  involved.  He 
couldn't  in  good  faith  send  them  back  now.  He'd 
hear  what  the  chief  had  to  propose  and,  if  it  wasn't 
satisfactory,  send  him  back  to  his  sand  holes  and 
pitch  in. 

"  You  can't,"  said  Stannard  again.  He  had  had 
years  of  dealings  with  the  red  men  and  knew  their 
tricks  and  their  manners.  "  Next  thing  you  know 
he'll  stipulate  for  a  peace  smoke ;  can't  talk  until 
after  smoke,  and  he'll  smoke  half  an  hour  before 
he'll  say  a  word."  Stannard  glared  disgustedly 
around  at  the  silent  officers  as  much  as  to  say,  "  You 
know  this  as  well  as  I  do,  gentlemen.  "Why  don't 
you  warn  the  colonel  ?  "Why  didn't  you  do  it  ?" 
But  they  were  silent  or  turned  away  in  visible  em- 
barrassment. Some  of  them  had  warned  the  colonel 
and  even  argued  with  him.  The  old  fellow  looked 
vexed  and  badgered  in  good  earnest  now.  He 
seemed  to  have  known  Stannard  many  a  year,  as 
was  indeed  the  case,  and  so  would  listen  to  far  more 
from  him  than  he  would  from  his  own  people. 

All  the  time  this  excited  talk  was  going  on,  soma 
little  distance  to  one  side  the  baker's  dozen  of 
Indians  were  squatted  on  the  ground  busily  plying 
fingers  and  spoons,  only  occasionally  casting  furtive 
glances  at  the  group.  Around  them,  in  bigger, 
broader  semicircle,  nearly  three  hundred  troops — 


152  A  GAEEI80N  TANGLE. 

infantry  and  cavalry — stood  resting  on  their  arms, 
watching  the  scene  and  occasionally  indulging  in 
rough  frontier  chat  and  chaff.  But  the  interpreter 
knew  Stannard  of  old,  marked  every  word  that  he 
said,  and  in  low  tone  warned  his  chief,  who  glanced 
at  Stannard's  sturdy  figure  and  snapping  eyes  with 
no  little  concern  in  his  face,  then  helped  himself  to 
more  of  the  bacon. 

Just  as  Stannard  prophesied,  more  than  an  hour 
was  taken  up  by  the  feast.  By  that  time  every 
scrap  was  eaten,  and  Yellow  Wolf  bade  his  inter- 
preter petition  for  more,  and  again  he  began,  "  We 
are  poor  and  hungry,"  and  pleaded  for  renewed  sup- 
plies, but  this  time  the  colonel  bade  the  infantry 
captain  speak  for  him,  and  speak  he  did  in  no  un- 
certain tone.  Not  another  mouthful  until  the  talk 
was  over,  then  they'd  see  about  it.  Another  con- 
ference followed  between  Wolf  and  his  interpreter, 
conducted  with  vast  gesticulation,  for,  like  the  Ara- 
pahoe,  the  Cheyenne  language  is  one  so  guttural 
and  uncouth  that  it  is  said  two  Indians  of  the  same 
tribe  cannot  understand  each  other  in  the  dark. 
They  must  have  recourse  to  gestures. 

And  then,  just  as  Stannard  said,  the  wily  old 
fencer  for  time  came  up  with  a  proposition  for  a 
smoke.  No  conference  could  be  held  without  one. 
But  again :  "  We  are  poor  and  hungry.  We  have 
no  tobacco." 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  153 

They  had  their  pipes,  however,  and  these  \vere 
speedily  filled,  lighted,  and  with  deep  guttural 
"  ughs "  and  sighs  of  contentment  the  squatting 
warriors  drew  deep  clouds  of  the  fragrant  vapor 
into  the  lungs,  apparently,  and  exhaled  the  smoke 
in  long  blue  jets,  Yellow  Wolf  insisting  on  a  far 
greater  ceremony,  and  passing  his  beautifully  orna- 
mented pipe  from  lip  to  lip  of  those  nearest  him. 
Half  an  hour  was  consumed  in  this  way,  and  the  sun 
was  growing  redder  and  sinking  lower,  and  the  old 
colonel  was  waxing  wroth  and  fidgeting  here  and 
there ;  and  then,  and  not  till  then,  when  the  groat 
orb  was  barely  half  an  hour  high,  did  Yellow  Wolf 
motion  the  throng  to  fall  back  and  give  him  room  ; 
and  not  until  the  soldiers  returned  to  their  places 
and  the  warriors  squatted  at  a  respectful  distance 
from  their  chief,  and  the  colonel  and  his  officers  took 
their  stand  facing  the  Indian  leader,  did  that  savage 
dignitary  advance  a  step  or  two  and  begin.  He 
dropped  his  blanket  from  his  shoulders  with  a  superb 
gesture,  and  then,  clad  only  in  breechclout,  mocca- 
sins, paint  and  barbaric  necklace,  armlets,  leglets, 
and  magnificent  war  bonnet  of  eagles'  feathers, 
proudly  swaying  both  arms  in  the  wild  grace  of  his 
savage  oratory,  Yellow  Wolf  began.  Every  forty 
or  fifty  words  he  would  pause,  and  the  interpreter 
would  do  his  best. 


154  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

"  Long  years  ago."  said  "Wolf,  "  this  beautiful  land 
teemed  with  buffalo,  elk,  and  deer,  and  their  fathers 
led  them  (the  Indians)  to  the  chase.  The  white  man 
was  unknown.  Their  young-  men  were  brave,  their 
maidens  pure  and  beautiful,  their  people  strong  and 
prosperous  and  happy.  Their  foemen  trembled  be- 
fore them  and  fled  at  their  coming.  They  were 
lords  of  the  soil,  and  knew  no  master  but  the  Great 
Spirit.  Then  came  the  white  man,  tempting  them 
with  gifts,  drugging  them  with  fire-water,  stealing 
away  their  maidens,  slaying  their  young  men.  We 
could  have  slayed  the  despoiler,  but  we  would  not, 
for  we  had  welcomed  the  white  man  and  loved  him 
as  a  brother.  Then  came  lying  paper  chiefs — not 
warriors — who  told  us  to  sign  papers  and  we  would 
have  cattle  and  horses,  wagons  and  meat  and  flour 
and  coffee  and  sugar  like  the  white  man  ;  and  then 
they  told  us  we  had  sold  our  lands  and  must  go.  Go 
where  ?  They  led  us  far  away  from  the  wild  hills 
and  haunts  of  our  fathers.  They  drove  us  down 
among  the  buffalo  soldiers — the  Negro  Indians — the 
no-warrior  nations  of  the  South,  where  our  young 
men  sickened  and  died,  where  our  maidens  were 
poisoned,  where  the  great  father's  agent  starved 
and  cheated  us,  and  when  we  appealed  to  him,  put 
our  chiefs  in  prison  and  threatened  our  young  men, 
At  last  he  brought  soldiers  to  shoot  and  kill ;  and 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  155 

then  we  sought  the  plains,  poor  and  starving  as  we 
Were — sought  our  kindred  here  at  the  north,  at  the 
old,  old  hunting  grounds  ;  and  we  are  trailed  and  fol- 
lowed and  fought.  Our  young  men  are  shot  again, 
and  our  old  men  are  dying  of  weakness  and  famine. 
"We  are  helpless,  we  are  wronged.  Look  at  me,"  he 
said,  with  magnificent  gesture,  "I  am  poor  and 
naked.  Why  are  these  soldiers  here  ?  Why  are  we 
threatened  and  fought  and  killed,  we  who  have  done 
no  wrong  ?"  And  Wolf  looked  grandly  about  him. 
"  I  have  done,"  he  said,  and  his  followers  gutturally 
grunted  their  applause,  and  all  eyes  reverted  to  tha 
colonel,  just  as  the  red  rim  of  the  sun  reached  the 
horizon  and  turned  his  mottled  face  to  fire  as  he 
confronted  it. 

"  Yellow  Wolf,"  said  he,  "  your  ideas  of  right  and 
wrong  and  ours  don't  agree.  I  don't  know  any- 
thing about  your  row  with  the  agent.  I  do  know 
that  when  you  broke  away  your  people  killed  him 
and  half  a  dozen  white  men  at  the  reservation,  and 
stabbed  and  killed  the  schoolmistress  who  had 
never  been  anything  but  kind  to  your  children. 
Then  you  started  on  your  raid,  and  you've  made  a 
trail  of  blood  every  inch  of  the  way  from  the  terri- 
tory to  the  sand  hills.  Now  we've  got  you  and  our 
orders  are  to  take  you  back  to  the  Indian  Territory, 
and  we're  going  to  do  it.  My  advice  to  you  is, 


156  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

surrender  your  arms  and  ponies  and  go  back  peace- 
fully. If  you  don't  we'll  lick  hell  out  of  you,  and 
that's  all  there  is  about  it.  Now  go  get  your  guns 
and  horses  and  hand  them  over.  That's  all  I've 
got  to  say." 

In  point  of  oratory  there  was  no  question  which, 
the  red  man  or  the  white,  had  the  better  of  it.  In 
point  of  logic,  it  depends  upon  the  point  of  view. 

Slowly  the  chief  arose,  and  striding  forward  once 
more  essayed  to  speak,  but  the  old  colonel,  waving 
him  back  as  he  turned  impatiently  away,  said,  "  I'll 
listen  to  no  more.  I've  said  my  say,"  and  this  the 
interpreter  did  not  have  to  explain.  But  Yellow 
Wolf  was  not  lightly  to  be  shaken  off.  "  It  is  too 
late  to-night,"  he  pleaded.  "  See,  the  sun  has  dip- 
ped below  the  mountains.  The  night  draws  over 
the  earth."  (It  was  as  though  he  was  spreading  a 
blanket  over  the  prairie  sod.)  "  We  are  poor.  We 
have  no  lights.  To-morrow — to-morrow  when  the 
sun  is  one  hour  high  we  will  come  forth  with  our 
guns  and  horses — all  we  have,  and  lay  them  at  the 
feet  of  the  great  father.  Let  me  go  back  and  bid 
our  women  cease  their  trembling,  our  children  hush 
their  cries,  for  the  white  chief  promises  that  his 
soldiers  shall  not  harm  them  this  night.  Yellow 
Wolf  and  his  warriors  will  go  where  the  white 
chief  may  say.  We  will  fight  no  more. 


A   GARRISON  TANGLE.  157 

This,  too,  was  promptly  interpreted,  and  the 
colonel  wavered.  He  looked  to  Captain  Lee,  his 
trusted  adviser,  and  Lee  shook  his  head.  "  It's  tak- 
ing chances,"  said  he.  The  colonel  glanced  about 

n  /  cj 

the  circle  of  grave  faces  in  the  gathering  twilight. 
The  little  cook  fires  on  the  slopes  burned  redder. 
Some  faces  were  doubtful,  some  appealing.  At 
least  it  meant  no  attack  on  a  desperate  band  in  a 
strong  position.  At  least  it  meant  that  there  would 
be  no  ghastly  list  of  killed  and  wounded  to  send  by 
courier  to  the  station.  This  seemed  to  weigh  with 
the  old  soldier,  so  heavy  had  been  the  losses  of  the 
troops  within  the  two  years  gone  by,  and  at  last  he 
whirled  about. 

"  All  right.  So  be  it,"  he  said.  « To-morrow, 
then,  when  the  sun  is  one  hour  high — all  arms  and 
ponies.  Meantime,  Yellow  Wolf,  you  and  your 
people  are  to  stay  just  where  you  are." 

"  Will  the  great  chief  give  us  food  for  our  peo- 
ple ?"  asked  the  interpreter,  in  accents  that  were 
almost  Hibernian  in  their  flattery.  The  colonel 
hesitated.  He  was  a  merciful  man,  but  Lee  spoke 
promptly.  "  Tell  him  they  shall  have  abundance — 
a  feast  for  all  hands  to-morrow  morning,  colonel, 
but  not  a  morsel  to-night.  They're  not  suffering — 
any  of  them." 

And  at  this,  without  another  word,  with   slow; 


158  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

cumbrous  dignity,  Yellow  Wolf  mounted  and,  fol- 
lowed by  his  sub  chiefs,  rode  slowly  and  solemnly 
away.  Long  before  they  had  reached  the  little 
butte  from  whose  shelter  they  had  emerged  more 
than  two  hours  before,  only  as  dim,  shadowy, 
specter-like  forms  did  they  appear  against  the 
southward  slopes  of  the  rolling  earth  waves. 

That  night  Atherton  was  ordered  to  extend  his 
lines  as  far  to  the  west  as  possible  and  have  patrols 
scouring  the  country  west  of  the  Indian  position, 
while  the  cavalry  from  the  north  threw  out  similar 
parties  from  their  right  flank.  But  long  before  ten 
o'clock  word  came  in  that  the  country  was  all  cut 
up  by  deep  ravines  or  gulches,  with  precipitous 
sides.  It  was  dark  and  moonless.  They  couldn't 
communicate.  Yenturesome  troopers,  who  dis- 
mounted and  slid  into  those  apparently  bottomless 
depths,  reported  that  the  opposite  wall  was  just  as 
steep.  Even  if  they  got  down  into  them  there  was 
no  getting  out  on  the  opposite  side,  and  no  telling 
how  many  more  there  were  just  like  them.  Both 
commands  felt  out  toward  the  west  as  far  as  they 
could  and  strove  to  close  the  nearly  mile-wide  gap 
on  that  side,  but  to  very  little  purpose.  One  daring 
young  corporal,  striving  to  find  a  way  in  the  black- 
ness of  the  night,  was  suddenly  plunged  forward  by 
the  misstep  of  his  snorting  horse,  and  he  and  that 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  159 

luckless  charger  rolled  over  the  edge  of  the  cliff 
and  were  found  by  comrades  who  ventured  down 
afoot  with  lights,  crushed  to  death  on  the  rocks  bo- 
low.  Not  until  long  after  midnight  did  Atherton 
and  Stannard  turn  in,  and  then  it  was  with  a  shake 
of  the  head  that  augured  ill  for  the  success  of  the 
plan. 

The  night  went  by  in  silence,  broken  only  by  the 
yelping  of  the  coyotes  far  out  on  the  prairie,  and 
the  occasional  snorting  of  horses  and  braying  of 
pack  mules.  The  dawn  came,  slow  and  chill,  and 
at  the  first  flush  of  day  the  troopers  were  huddling 
about  the  cook  fires,  eager  for  their  mug  of  coffee. 
Brighter  grew  the  skies.  One  by  one  the  stars  to 
the  west  faded  from  view  and,  just  before  the  sun 
came  peeping  over  the  low,  distant  hillocks  at  the 
east,  old  Sergeant  Donnelly  came  riding  up  to 
Colonel  Atherton's  tent  with  gloom  in  his  eyes. 

"  What  is  it,  sergeant  ?"  asked  Atherton,  as  the 
veteran  trooper  dismounted. 

"Nothing  sir,  but  that  I've  just  come  in  from  the 
extreme  left,  and  it's  my  belief  the  whole  outfit 
sneaked  away  through  one  of  them  damned  ruts 
last  night,  and  is  halfway  to  the  Niobrara  by  thia 
time.'* 

And  th's  proved  to  be  true.  When  the  sun  was 
an  hour  high  the  White  River  command  was  in  full 


160  A  UAHR180N  TANGLE- 

chase,  northwestward,  for  the  arms  and  ponies  that 
were  not  delivered  at  that  hour,  while  philosophic 
Barry  and  hard-swearing  Stannard  were  riding 
along  with  their  silent  chief,  following  the  general 
movement. 

And  this  was  the  news  that  reached  Russell  the 
fifth  day  of  the  week  referred  to,  followed  next  day 
by  the  tidings  that  General  Crook  had  corraled 
Yellow  Wolf  at  the  northern  reservation,  that 
Atherton,  Barry  and  Stannard  were  marching 
homeward,  and  all  would  be  there  within  another 
seven  days;  and  that  was  why  Mr.  Maynard,  al- 
though he  was  now  almost  able  to  take  the  field, 
did  not  do  so  ;  but,  having  secured  his  sister's  home- 
ward-bound ticket,  had  planned  to  escort  her  to  the 
station  on  the  following  day,  despite  Mrs.  Turner's 
plea  that  she  might  wait  just  a  few  days  longer 
until  the  troops  came  home ;  and  Mrs.  Turner  needed 
friends  and  allies  now,  for  war  had  been  declared 
by  Mrs.  Gregg.  "  Somebody,"  said  Mrs.  Turner, 
"  has  been  mean  enough  to  tell  her  something." 

But  Miss  Maynard  was  to  have  started  on  Thurs- 
day, and  all  preparations  had  been  made ;  but  when 
Thursday  morning  came  there  was  dismay  and  con- 
sternation on  every  face  along  officers'  row.  Three 
sets  of  quarters  had  been  robbed  some  time  between 
midnight  and  reveille,  and  there  was  not  a  clue  to 
the  perpetratontf* 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  161 


CHAPTER   XIL 

OPPORTUNITIES  for  theft  in  garrison  are  or  were 
illimitable.  People  never  thought  of  bolting  their 
doors  by  day,  and,  as  to  money,  silver \vare,  jewelry, 
and  the  like,  women  who  possessed  such  property 
rarely  placed  it  under  lock  and  key.  Once  in  a 
long  while  some  servant  was  caught  peculating  and 
was  escorted  beyond  the  limits  of  the  military 
reservation  and  forbidden  to  return.  But  never  be- 
fore in  the  history  of  the  cavalry  had  the  officers* 
quarters  been  entered  by  professional  burglars,  and 
there  was  no  question  that  professionals  only  could 
have  done  the  deed  with  the  neatness  and  dispatch 
evident  in  this  case. 

Yet  what  was  there  to  prevent  it  ?  The  garrison 
proper  was  far  afield.  One  attenuated  company  of 
infantry  was  all  that  was  left  to  do  duty  at  Russell. 
Oriiy  two  sentries  were  posted  on  each  relief. 
Seven  privates  constituted  the  daily  guard,  and 
even  then  the  men  were  growling  because  they 
"  only  had  three  and  sometimes  two  nights  abed." 
One  of  these  sentries  was  stationed  at  the  guard- 


A  QARHISON  TANQLK. 

house  where  quite  a  number  of  prisoners  were  con- 
fined.  The  other  paced  the  long  east  front  of  the 
post,  trying  to  keep  an  eye  on  the  coal  piles,  the 
ordnance,  quartermaster's  and  commissary  store- 
houses, the  post  generally,  which  he  couldn't  see,  and 
the  front  gate.  All  the  north  side  of  the  post,  back  of 
the  hospital  and  surgeon's  quarters  and  all  the  north- 
west and  southwest  sides  of  the  lozenge-shaped 
enclosure  lay  open  to  marauders,  for  there  were  not 
two  back  gates  along  officers'  row  that  would  readily 
close,or  that,  being  closed,  could  not  read  ily  be  forced, 
"tt  was  perfectly  practicable  for  any  parties  intent 
on  pillage  to  drive  out  from  town,  and,  keeping  well 
away  over  the  level  prairie,  to  make  a  wide  circuit 
and  approach  the  post  from  the  north  or  northwest. 
They  could  then  be  beyond  sight  or  hearing  of  any 
sentry,  could  run  their  wagons  back  of  the  quarters 
to  be  entered,  load  up  with  their  booty,  and  be  off 
again  with  no  fear  of  capture  and  little  of  inter- 
ruption. Even  should  some  of  the  women  or  chil- 
dren be  aroused,  there  were  not  five  houses  where 
men  servants  or  " strikers "  slept,  and  they  knew, 
did  these  shrewd  professionals,  how  to  manage  sud- 
denly awakened  women. 

But  how  did  they  know  just  what  houses  to  rob, 
and  just  where  to  find  the  valuables  in  each  case  ? 
The  tracks  showed  that  a  two-horse  wagon  had  been 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  163 

used,  and  that  two  men  beside  the  driver  were 
engaged  in  the  work.  Everybody  in  town  was 
aware  of  the  fact  that  the  well-to-do  or  fairly 
wealthy  officers  at  Russell  were  Colonel  Atherton, 
Major  Barry,  Captains  Freeman,  Gregg,  Truscott 
and  Ray,  the  latter  having  married  an  heiress.  But 
the  marauders  never  disturbed  the  colonel's  house. 
All  the  silver  had  gone  to  the  bank  in  town  and 
her  ladyship  to  Chicago,  and  there,  besides,  Mrs. 
Atherton's  coachman  and  two  other  servants  slept; 
and  furthermore  the  band  quarters  were  but  a  short 
pistol-shot  away.  They  steered  clear  of  Truscott's 
where  baby  Jack  was  teething  and  keeping  his 
anxious  and  devoted  mother  awake  long  hours  each 
night,  and  where  by  her  bedside  hung  a  crafty  little 
Smith  &  Wesson  she  knew  well  how  to  use.  They 
steered  clear  of  her  devoted  friends  and  next  door 
neighbors,  the  Rays,  for  there  slept  a  doughty  ex- 
trooper,  Hogan  by  name,  now  their  coachman  and 
man-of-all-work,  in  his  little  arsenal  of  a  room  back 
of  the  kitchen.  But  they  had  dared  to  enter, 
through  a  rear  window  apparently,  the  quarters  of 
Major  Barry,  where  a  night  light  burned  dimly  all 
through  the  hours  of  darkness,  and  had  carried 
away  the  basket  of  household  silver  secreted  under 
Mrs.  Barry's  bed,  and  the  jewelry  from  her  toilet 
•tand.  They  must  have  looked  with  covetous  «yei 


164  -4  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

on  the  beautiful  rings  that  adorned  her  slender 
fingers,  but  thought  best  not  to  attempt  that — or 
did  they  even  dare  make  that  essay  ?  Mrs.  Barry 
was  aroused  from  unusually  deep  slumber  by  the 
sensation  that  some  one  had  lifted  her  hand  from 
the  counterpane,  found  herself  in  darkness,  her 
night  lamp  smoking  as  though  recently  extinguished, 
heard  the  boards  creaking  in  the  parlor  or  hall, 
and  had  asked,  "  Is  that  you,  Nathalie  ?"  and  re- 
ceiving no  response  believed  it  all  imagination;  and 
wondering  what  made  her  so  drowsy,  had  slept 
heavily  until  aroused  by  the  servant  in  the  morning, 
with  the  startling  announcement  that  the  silver  and 
her  jewelry  were  gone.  Then  Nathalie  came  rush- 
ing down  the  stairs,  wide-eyed,  and  deathly  white, 
had  glanced  almost  in  horror  at  the  empty  basket 
which  the  cook  had  brought  in  from  the  backyard, 
and  had  then  thrown  herself  upon  her  knees  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed  and  burst  into  an  agony  of  tears. 

And  before  visiting  the  Barrys'  the  professionals 
had  called  at  Gregg's  and  Freeman's,  carrying  off  a 
watch,  some  silver  and  many  trinkets  from  each, 
and  never  even  disturbing  the  healthful  slumbers  of 
the  occupants.  Captain  Gregg's  desk  was  forced 
and  about  one  hundred  dollars  in  treasury  notes  had 
disappeared,  but  most  of  Mrs.  Freeman's  silver  and 
money  were  safe  in  the  bank.  She  never  "  enter- 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  165 

tafned "  when  her  lord  was  in  the  field,  and  this 
proved  her  salvation.  But  the  gentle  little  woman 
was  sorely  grieved  over  the  loss  of  her  beautiful 
watch,  which  always  lay  at  night  on  the  little  stand 
by  the  head  of  her  bed.  As  for  Mrs.  Gregg,  her 
grief  was  almost  tragic.  Two  young  ladies  from 
town  were  her  guests  at  the  time.  They  were 
sleeping  together  in  the  room  adjoining  hers. 
Nothing  of  theirs  was  disturbed,  while  her  watch, 
rings,  bracelets,  locket,  pins,  and  heaven  knows  how 
much  frumpery,  together  with  every  ounce  of  the 
household  silver,  had  been  spirited  off.  The  foolish 
matron  had  not  thought  of  such  a  possibility  as 
this.  She  loved  display,  and  even  their  recent  re- 
verses had  taught  no  lesson  of  permanent  value. 

Hardly  had  Mrs.  Barry  been  told  of  her  loss — she 
was  still  in  a  half  bewildered  state,  passing  her  hand 
over  her  heavy  eyelids  and  striving  to  rouse  herself 
from  the  stupor  that  seemed  to  overcome  her — when 
there  came  a  violent  bang  at  the  front  door  and 
Mrs.  Turner  bounced  into  the  hall.  Catching  sight 
of  Nathalie  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  she  plunged  \\\\- 
petuously  into  the  room.  "Mrs.  Barry,  Mrs. 
Barry !  Have  you  heard  the  news  ?"  she  cried. 
"  Mrs.  Gregg  and  Mrs.  Freeman  have  been  robbed 
of  every  earthly  thing  they  own.  Why !  what's 
the  matter — you  too  ?  And  Miss  Baird  ?  Oh, 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

I'm  so  sorry.  And  you  heard  nothing — you  suspect 
nobody  ?"  And,  under  cover  of  the  volley  of  ques- 
tions addressed  to  the  lady  of  the  house  by  her 
excited  visitor,  Nathalie  stole,  sobbing,  from  the 
room.  When  Mrs.  Turner  would  have  questioned 
her  the  girl  was  gone. 

Even  in  the  excitement  and  shock  consequent 
upon  the  discovery  of  her  own  losses,  Mrs.  Barry 
had  noticed  Nathalie's  extreme  agitation  and  her 
escape  from  the  room.  When,  therefore,  Mrs. 
Turner's  eyes  dilated  with  eager  curiosity  and  she 
began  rapid  queries  as  to  the  cause  of  Nathalie's 
sudden  exit,  the  lady  was  quite  prepared  to  parry. 
"  Nathalie  has  only  been  able  to  leave  her  bed  with- 
in the  last  two  days,  Mrs.  Turner.  You  know  she's 
been  wretchedly  ill,  and  she  is  still  so  weak  and 
nervous  that  Bridget's  sudden  and  exciting  an 
Bouncement  shocked  her  greatly." 

"  The  poor  child  !"  cried  Mrs.  Turner.  "  Do  let 
me  go  up  to  her  and  see  if  1  cannot  do  something 
for  her." 

"  Better  not,"  answered  Mrs.  Barry.  "  I've  found 
Nathalie  always  more  rapidly  recover  when  left 
to  herself.  You  can  do  something  for  me  though," 
she  hurried  on,  anxious  to  silence  further  question- 
ing- and  to  rid  herself  of  an  importunate  guest  who 
was  very  much  in  the  way.  "  Will  you  ask  Captain 


A  GARRISON  TANOLB.  167 

Walters  to  come  to  see  me  this  morning,  and  Mrs. 
Stannard  to  join  me  as  soon  as  she  can  ?" 

"  Why,  of  course,  Mrs.  Barry.  Anything  you 
wish;  but  I  haven't  begun  to  tell  you  about  the  rob- 
bery yet.  Just  think  of  it.  All  Mrs.  Gregg's  silver 
is  gone,  as  well  as  all  her  lovely  rings  and  things. 
It  seems  like  a  judgment  on  her  for  being  so  care- 
less. I'm  sure  Captain  Gregg  has  warned  her  a 
dozen  times  not  to  leave  her  valuables  about.  Don't 
you  think  so  ?*' 

"  That  it  was  a  judgment  on  her,  Mrs.  Turner  ? 
Well,  if  upon  her,  why  not  upon  me  ?" 

"  Oh,  but  you  didn't  lose  half  what  she  did — be- 
sides, you're  very  different.  What  did  they  take 
from  you  ?  Not  those  heavenly  sapphires,  I'm  glad 
to  see,"  and  Mrs.  Turner's  pretty,  empty  head  was 
twisting  in  every  direction  in  her  eagerness  to  ap- 
praise the  loss. 

"  No,  not  my  rings,  but  a  basket  of  silver  that  we 
valued  for  old  time's  sake,  and  some  loose  trinkets 
from  the  bureau.  I  fear  it's  gone  for  good,"  said 
the  kind-hearted  woman,  with  a  sigh,  "yet  how 
much  greater  is  Mrs.  Gregg's  loss.  I'm  so  sorry  for 
her." 

"  Oh,  so  am  I,  and  not  a  man  here  of  our  regiment 
to  help  in  any  way  except  Mr.  Maynard,  and  he's 
half-invalid  yet  and  a  mere  boy."  Disparagement 


168  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

of  Maynard  in  Mrs.  Turner's  liquid  drawl  had  fol- 
lowed speedily  upon  his  defection.  Finally,  finding 
that  Nathalie  wouldn't  come  down  so  long  as  she 
remained,  and  that  Mrs.  Barry  would  not  encourage 
her  to  go  up,  Mrs.  Turner  hastened  away  in  hopes 
of  breaking  the  news  elsewhere.  She  looked  wist- 
fully into  Mrs.  Gregg's  open  doorway  as  she  has- 
tened down  the  row,  and  longed  to  enter  and  to 
ascertain  what  was  really  the  extent  of  her  loss,  and 
whether  she  had  heard  anybody,  and  had  any  sus- 
picions. One  of  the  young  lady  visitors  was  at  the 
door  at  the  moment,  chatting  with  Mr.  Maynard, 
who,  leaning  on  a  stout  cane,  and  looking  rather 
white  and  solemn,  had  evidently  just  come  out  from 
a  conference.  To  him  Mrs.  Turner  bowed  coquet- 
tishly,  and  gave  a  forgiving  glance  at  the  girl,  but 
the  latter  returned  only  an  embarrassed  nod  and  did 
not  speak.  Everybody  knew  that  there  had  been  a 
dreadful  row  between  the  ladies  within  the  week 
gone  by.  They  had  met  at  the  Raymonds'  where 
Mrs.  Gregg  flushed  angrily  at  sight  of  her  former 
friend  and  rival,  and  refused  the  outstretched  hand. 
Mrs.  Turner  had  demanded,  with  a  world  of  injured 
innocence  in  her  tones,  instant  explanation  of  such 
unsisterly,  not  to  say  rude  and  unjustifiable  con- 
duct, and,  nothing  loath,  Mrs.  Gregg  gave  it  to  her. 
She  had  heard  from  excellent  authority  that  Mrs. 


A  OARRI80N  TANGLB.  1G9 

Turner  had  said  that  she,  Mrs.  Gregg,  was  living 
most  extra/oagantly^  and  far  beyond  her  husband's 
means — that  all  manner  of  tradesmen  were  bom- 
barding her  with  bills,  bills,  bills,  and  nothing  but 
Colonel  Athertou's  interposition  had  saved  her 
husband,  Captain  Gregg,  from  being  ordered  before 
a  court  for  non-payment  of  debts  that  Mrs.  Gregg 
had  contracted. 

Fanny  Turner  was  promptly,  properly  and  virtu- 
ously indignant  in  her  denial  of  the  story.  Never 
had  she  said  to  a  living  soul  what  she  was  repre- 
sented as  having  said.  She  had  never  presumed  to 
criticise  Mrs.  Gregg.  All  she  said  was  that  she 
heard  that  Mrs.  Gregg's  means  were  greatly 
straightened  since  the  failure  of  their  bank,  and  she 
wondered  that  people  should  be  so  inconsiderate  as 
to  send  in  their  bills  at  such  a  time,  when,  if  they 
would  only  wait,  Captain  Gregg  would  see  that  they 
were  all  settled.  Everybody  knew  he  was  as  honest 
as  he  could  be,  and  all  she  ever  said  about  court- 
inartial  was,  that  there  had  been  cases  where  officers 
were  brought  to  trial  for  not  paying  their  bills,  and 
she  knew  how  dreadfully  Mrs.  Gregg  would  feel, 
etc.,  etc.  It  was  all  very  glib  and  plausible,  and  the 
moistened  eyes  and  flushed  cheeks  of  the  fair  speaker 
might  have  pleaded  for  her  too,  but,  unluckily,  she 
and  Mrs.  Gregg  had  had  their  little  day  of  devoted 


170  *  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

intimacy  and  unbounded  confidences  in  the  past ; 
Mrs.  Gregg  knew  how  she  could  talk ;  had  heard 
from  one  of  her  lady  friends  of  Mrs.  Turner's  theories 
and  statements  regarding  the  receipted  bills,  and 
had  been  referred  to  others  who  also  had  heard, 
whereat,  bristling  with  indignation,  Mrs.  Gregg  in- 
vestigated and  dragged  the  truth  to  light.  Over 
the  scene  of  upbraiding,  denials,  recriminations  and 
counter  accusations  that  occurred  at  Mrs.  Raymond's 
that  afternoon,  let  us  draw  a  veil.  All  poor  Turner's 
forebodings  were  amply  justified.  The  ladies  parted 
with  the  determination  of  never  speaking  to  each 
other  again,  and,  what  really  was  serious,  Mrs. 
Gregg  wrote  a  long,  long  letter  to  her  husband, 
setting  forth  all  the  hateful,  abominable  things  Fanny 
Turner  had  said ;  and,  just  as  Turner  had  predicted, 
another  old  comrade  and  friend  with  whom  he  had 
campaigned  all  over  the  country,  marched  and 
scouted,  skirmished  and  starved,  shared  his  last 
drop  or  crust  or  blanket  many  and  many  a  time, 
now  coldty  avoided  him,  and  Turner's  sad,  sallow 
face  grew  sadder  still  as  the  two  battalions  came 
jogging  homeward.  There  was  no  need  to  ask  what 
was  the  matter,  no  use  in  trying  to  explain  or  con- 
done. "  It  is  all  my  fault,"  was  the  burden  of  his 
song.  "  I  should  have  corrected  that  tendency  long 
years  ago.  It  is  too  late  now." 


A  GARRISON  T ANGLE.  171 

Accustomed  as  she  was  to  spats  of  this  character, 
however,  Mrs.  Turner  still  sorely  missed  the  close 
companionship  of  some  garrison  friend  and  intimate 
this  electric  day.  Even  Mrs.  Raj-mond,  slighted 
and  snubbed  for  the  new-found  friend,  no\v  refused 
to  be  cajoled  back  to  a  semblance  of  the  old  rela- 
tions. She  was  almost  as  ?cy  as  Mrs.  Gregg  had 
been  volcanic.  There  was  no  longer  for  Mrs.  Turner 
the  rapture  of  the  first  bloom  of  her  fellowship  with 
Miss  Maynard.  That  Mohawk  maiden  had  failed 
to  warmly  champion  her  cause  when  she  fled  to  her 
in  tears  after  the  battle  at  the  Raymonds  and  told 
her  side  of  the  story.  Mrs.  Turner  had  sobbed  out 
something  to  the  effect  that,  being  so  much  younger 
and  less  experienced  than  Mrs.  Gregg,  she  had  in- 
cautiously confided  certain  statements  to  Mrs.  Ray- 
mond and  one  or  two  ladies  whom  she  supposed 
trustworthy,  and  they  had  betrayed  her.  Miss  May* 
nard  innocently  remarked  that  she  had  always  sup- 
posed Mrs.  Turner  was  older  than  Mrs.  Gregg, 
which  stopped  the  flow  of  Mrs.  Turner's  tears  and 
turned  on  a  flood  of  rebuke,  which'Miss  Maynard 
interrupted  by  saying :  "  You  are  surely  as  old  as  I 
am,  Mrs.  Turner ;  if  not,  you  must  have  been  mar- 
ried before  'you  were  twelve."  Miss  Maynard,  it 
must  be  remembered,  was  herself  engaged  to  be 
married  in  the  war  days,  and  could  not  be  fooled  on 
chronology. 


172  A  GARRISON  TAKOLE. 

Take  it  altogether,  Fanny  Turner  had  been  having 
hard  lines  for  a  whole  week.  She  was  really  glad 
to  hear  Miss  Maynard  was  going  home.  There  had 
sprung  up  a  coolness,  due  partially  to  the  difference 
as  to  their  respective  ages,  but  due  even  more  to  the 
consciousness  that,  between  them,  another  deep 
wrong  had  been  done  in  that  garrison,  and  each 
wished  to  lay  the  blame  upon  the  other,  even  while 
conscience  dinned  "  Thou  art  the  woman  "  into  her 
own  unwilling  ears. 

In  leading  Nathalie  Baird  to  believe  that  May- 
nard was  virtually  bound  to  Gertrude  Bonner,  Grace 
Maynard  felt  few  qualms  of  conscience.  She  was  a 
religious  woman.  She  believed  herself  to  be  a  model 
of  truth  and  propriety  and  justice.  She  had  per- 
suaded herself  that  in  course  of  time  Ronald's  eyes 
would  be  open  to  Gertrude's  rural  graces  and  do- 
mestic virtues,  and  that  then  he  would  see  his  duty 
clear  and  propose  marriage  forthwith.  She  had 
always  intended  that  they  should  marry,  and  that 
being  her  intention,  she  had  readily  persuaded  her- 
self that  it  was  also  theirs  ;  if  not,  it  ought  to  be. 
Gertrude  certainly  would  think  of  no  other  man. 
Poor  child !  she  had  never  seen  anything  of  the 
world  outside  of  her  native  count}7,  and  Ronald  was 
to  her  the  most  delectable  young  man  she  ever 
dreamed  of;  but  Ronald  had  seen  many  and  many  a 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  173 

girl  far  prettier  and  brighter,  more  attractive  in 
every  way  than  Gertrude,  and  his  liking  for  her  was 
due  to  that  least  complimentary  of  sentiments,  where 
woman  is  concerned — old  acquaintance  sake.  This 
he  had  flatly  told  his  sister  when  it  was  settled  that 
she  should  return  to  her  distant  home  and  resume 
the  care  of  their  invalid  father,  and  still  her  heart 
was  set  and  determined.  She  had  told  Nathalie 
Baird  in  so  many  words  that  her  brother  was 
engaged  to  or  in  love  with  Gertrude  Bonner,  and 
she  believed  that  in  maintaining  this  statement,  and 
using  every  means  in  her  power  to  bring  that  match 
about,  and  wean  her  brother  from  the  fascinations 
of  this  pink-cheeked  New  England  girl,  she  was 
doing  a  praiseworthy  and  proper  thing. 

But,  on  the  contrary,  she  was  tormented  by  the 
thought  that  in  speaking  of  Nathalie  to  her  brother 
she  had  asserted  that  which  she  did  not  know  and 
did  not  believe  to  be  a  fact — that  the  ruffianly 
stranger,  who  had  given  them  all  so  much  trouble 
before  finally  vanishing,  was  actually  Nathalie 
Baird's  lover.  She  strove  to  stifle  the  still  small 
voice  by  saying  to  herself  that  Mrs.  Turner  believed 
as  she  did,  but  Mrs.  Turner  did  not  believe  it  or 
think  of  it  until  Miss  Maynard  told  her  of  the 
mysterious  meetings  on  the  prairie  and  down  at  the 
end  of  the  row,  and  of  Maloney's  clamorous  call 


174  A  GAER180N  TANGLE. 

at  reveille.  These  had  Mrs.  Turner  lost  no  time  in 
peddling  about  the  garrison,  so  that  poor  Nathalie, 
with  her  big,  pleading  eyes  and  pathetic  white  face, 
was  just  beginning  to  move  around  again  after  her 
illness  only  to  find  herself  shunned  by  more  than 
half  the  women  at  Russell.  She  had  almost  deter- 
mined to  ask  that  Mrs.  Stannard  should  advocate 
her  being  sent  home,  when  the  burglary  took  place 
and  drove  her  almost  frantic,  with  fear  and  grief 
find  shame,  back  to  her  room  again. 

There  she  was,  two  days  later,  kneeling  by  her 
little  white  bed,  deaf  to  earthly  sound,  dumb  with 
speechless  misery,  when  Mrs.  Stannard  herself 
climbed  the  stairs  and  knelt  and  took  her  in  her 
arms. 

"  Nathalie,  child,"  she  murmured,  "  you  must  not 
give  way  to  such  dread.  I  know  whom  you  suspect 
oi  having  had  a  hand  in  the  robberies.  Even  if  it 
were  so,  dear,  you  would  be  blameless " 

"Mrs.  Stannard — Mrs.  Stannard!"  wailed  the 
girl,  as  she  threw  herself  upon  her  bosom.  "  What 
else  can  I  believe  ?  And  to  think  that  I  should 
bring  such  incessant  trouble  to  those  who  have  been 
so  good  to  me  !" 

"  Hush,  Nathalie,"  was  the  loving  answer,  as  the 
girl's  sobbing  broke  forth  afresh.  "  Mrs.  Barry 
needs  you  sadly  this  morning.  She  knows  the 


A  OARHISON  TANGLE.  176 

cause  of  your  distress,  and  she  begs  you  to  oome  to 
her.  Let  me  help  you  dress  now,  and  thea  you 
must  try  to  eat  something.  Let  me  tell  you: 
Hogan,  Mrs.  Ray's  coachman,  followed  the  trail 
into  town,  that  same  morning,  and  saw  the  marshal 
there,  or  somebody.  Captain  "Walters  drives  in 
again  right  after  guard  mounting  to-day,  and  the 
police  feel  sure  they  can  recapture  the  silver,  even  if 
they  do  not  get  the  thieves  and  the  jewelry.  Two 
strange  men  were  at  the  Railroad  House  that  morn- 
ing, and  neither  of  them  was  the  one  they  call 
Boston." 

But  the  girl  seemed  past  comfort.  Passively  she 
allowed  herself  to  be  aided  to  dress,  bathing  her 
swollen  eyelids  and  doing  what  she  could  to  banish 
the  signs  of  her  excessive  grief.  Humbly  she  waited 
upon  her  loving  friend,  as  the  latter  lay  upon  the 
couch,  sipping  her  tea  and  nibbling  at  the  dainty 
breakfast  prepared  for  her;  and  this  was  her  occupa- 
tion when  Captain  Walters,  the  infantry  officer 
temporarily  in  command  of  the  fort,  was  announced 
and  was  shown  into  the  little  parlor. 

He  was  a  man  of  some  fifty  years,  grizzled,  worn, 
and  somewhat  soured  in  service.  He  had  seen 
younger  men  plucking  the  plums  of  promotion  over 
his  head,  and  he  could  not  forgive  it  in  fate  that  he 
should  still  be  only  a  captain,  with  every  prospect  of 


176  A  QARUI80N  '1  ANGLE. 

there  remaining  for  ten  years  longer,  when  men 
years  his  junior  were  his  superior  officers.  His  one 
lieutenant,  they  said,  led  a  dog's  life  of  it.  His  wife 
was,  happily  for  her,  translated  to  realms  where 
promotion  cometh  not  from  the  east  nor  from  the 
west,  nor  is  supposed  to  be  a  matter  of  consequence 
to  any  one.  Captain  Walters  had  been  aroused  be- 
fore sick  call  on  the  eventful  morning  by  the  news 
of  the  robberies,  and  was  properly  scandalized  at 
such  things  occurring  under  his  command.  He  had 
held  brief  consultation  with  the  non-commissioned 
officers  of  his  guard,  with  the  doctor  and  others, 
especially  his  adjutant,  Mr.  Warner,  had  inspected 
the  wagon  tracks  and  footprints,  had  called  on 
Mesdames  Gregg  and  Freeman,  had  heard  Hogan's 
statement,  had  questioned  Mr.  Maynard  about  the 
burly  "  tough  "  whom  he  had  unseated  and  tumbled 
the  day  in  town,  and  had  finally,  on  the  second 
morning  after  the  robberies,  been  closeted  with  the 
local  chief  of  police.  What  happened  in  that  con- 
versation can  best  be  judged  by  what  followed. 
Leaving  him  at  the  office,  Captain  Walters  stumped 
down  the  line,  knocked  at  Mrs.  Turner's  door,  and 
disturbed  that  innocent  matron  at  breakfast,  but 
begged  a  few  words  none  the  less.  Then  be 
tramped  back  and  asked  for  Miss  Maynard  at  Stan- 
nard's  door,  and  both  Maynard  and  his  sister  came 


A  GARRISON  TAN  OLE.  177 

forth,  and  \vith  some  embarrassment  the  captain 
managed  to  say  it  was  Miss  Maynard  with  whom 
he  desired  a  word  in  private.  It  was  a  white, 
scared  face  with  which  she  confronted  her  brother 
when  the  brief  interview  was  over,  but,  vouchsafing 
no  explanation,  ran  hurriedly  up  the  stairs. 

Then  the  captain  rang  at  Bands'  and  was  shown 
into  the  pretty  parlor  where  Mrs.  Barry  reclined, 
with  Mrs.  Stannard  and  Miss  Baird  hovering  about 
her,  and  here  his  embarrassment  became  something 
painful.  He  answered  their  polite  greetings  in  most 
awkward  fashion,  and  refused  the  chair  that  was 
tendered  him.  At  last  he  blurted  forth  what  he 
had  to  say,  and,  almost  at  his  first  words,  Mrs. 
Stannard  threw  her  arm  around  Nathalie's  waist 
and  drew  her  tight  to  her  side. 

"  Mrs.  Barry,  I  have  a  most  painful  duty  to  per- 
form, but  I  cannot  shirk  it.  The  police  have  posi- 
tive proof  of  what  they  say,  and  they  tell  me  that 
there  is  one  person  here  at  the  post  who  not  only 
can  tell  who  the  robbers  are,  but  where  they  are, 
and  that  is — this  unfortunate  young  lady — Miss — a 
— Miss  Baird." 


178  4  GARRISON  TANGLE. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  east-bound  train  that  day  left  without  one 
of  its  promised  passengers — Miss  Maynard.  She 
was  needed,  said  the  civil  authorities,  as  a  possible 
witness  in  the  robbery  case.  Wild,  stirring-,  marvel- 
ous was  the  rumor  that  went  from  house  to  house  be- 
fore eleven  o'clock,  that  Mrs.  Barry's  companion  and 
protegee,  the  lovely  New  England  girl,  had  been  ac- 
cused by  the  police  of  guilty  knowledge  of,  if  not 
complicity  in,  the  burglaries,  and  that,  though  not 
arrested  and  taken  to  town,  she  was  under  surveil- 
lance and  confined  to  the  house.  One  man  when 
he  heard  it  boiled  over  with  wrath  and  misery. 
That  was  Konald  Maynard.  Scorning  his  sister's 
arguments  and  entreaties,  he  had  limped  across  the 
piazza,  rung  at  the  Barrys'  door  and  begged  to  be 
admitted.  He  found  Mrs.  Stannard  tearful,  but 
calm  and  collected,  Mrs.  Barry  reclining  on  her 
couch,  her  white  hands  gently  toying  with  the 
glossy,  wavy  blonde  masses  of  hair  that  rippled  all 
down  over  poor  Nathalie's  back  and  shoulders,  as 
she  knelt  there,  her  face  buried  in  Mrs.  Barry's 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  179 

bosom,  abandoned  to  her  grief.  She  did  not  even 
hear  or  heed  the  bell,  did  not  know  who  had  come, 
or  that  any  one  had  come,  until  she  heard  these 
words : 

"Mrs.  Stannard — Mrs.  Barry — I've  heard  this 
most  cruel  accusation,  and  I've  come  to  say  I  don't 
believe  a  word  of  it,  and  I  won't  rest  until  I've  got 
at  the  truth." 

The  servant,  after  admitting  him,  still  stood  at 
the  parlor  door,  looking  doubtfully  after  the  young 
officer  and  glancing  inquiringly  at  Mrs.  Stannard  as 
though  to  ask  if  she  had  done  right  or  wrong.  Mrs. 
Barry,  without  turning  or  disturbing  Nathalie,  held 
out  her  thin  white  hand,  a  smile  of  welcome  and 
pleasure  on  her  face,  and  as  Maynard  stepped  for- 
ward and  eagerly  clasped  the  proffered  hand,  he 
bowed  low  over  it,  and  over  the  beautiful,  rippling 
tresses  of  the  girl's  humbled  head.  His  eyes,  clouded 
•with  distress  and  sympathy,  gazed  one  moment 
into  those  of  the  invalid,  and  then  sought  the  kneel- 
ing form.  No  woman  that  ever  lived,  unbereft  of 
the  faculties  God  has  given  her,  could  have  failed 
to  read  the  infinite  yearning  in  the  brave  young 
face,  the  love  and  tenderness  and  longing  that 
shone  in  his  fine,  truthful  eyes.  Mrs.  Barry  read 
and  saw  unerringly,  and  her  heart  went  out  to  him 
as  she  drew  the  sobbing  girl  closer  to  her  side. 


J80  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

Nathalie,  too,  seemed  conscious  of  his  nearer  pres- 
ence. She  was  striving  to  check  the  violence  of 
her  emotion  and  had  instinctively  moved  a  little,  as 
though  to  make  room  for  him,  or  possibly  to  draw 
a  trifle  away.  His  knee  was  almost  at  her  shoul- 
der. 

Mrs.  Stannard  half  turned.  "It  is  all  right,"  she 
said  in  a  low  tone  to  the  still  lingering  servant. 
"  You  may  go ;"  and  slowly  and  almost  reluctantly 
the  maid  withdrew.  They  heard  her  voice  the  next 
moment  in  the  dining-room,  as  though  answering  a 
question.  "  Lieutenant  Maynard,"  she  said,  "  to 
see  Mrs.  Barry,"  whereat  Mrs.  Stannard  looked  in 
some  surprise  into  the  room  beyond,  but  no  one 
was  then  in  sight. 

"It  was  the  cook,  I  fancy,"  said  Mrs.  Isarry. 
"  She  usually  comes  to  me  about  this  time  each  day 
to  get  her  orders,  and  being  a  very  particular,  not 
to  say  superior  person,  she  did  not  wish,  in  her 
kitchen  attire,  to  come  into  the  presence  of  gentle- 
men. Bridget  is  quite  a  swell  when  she  goes  to 
town.  Do  sit  down  awhile,  Mr.  Maynard.  We  are 
all  glad  to  see  you,"  and  again  her  arm  seemed 
more  closely  to  encircle  Nathalie.  "  It  is  good  to 
hear  your  voice  again,  especially  when  you  say  such 
good  words."  Only  too  willingly  Maynard  found  a 
chair  and  drew  it  toward  the  couch.  Nathalie 


A  GAKRISON  TANGLE.  181 

made  an  effort  to  rise,  but  Mrs.  Barry  held  her 
firmly,  murmuring  some  encouraging  words  in  her 
ear.  Then  Mrs.  Stannard  came  forward  again. 

"I  think  I  will  go  over  home  awhile  now  and 
look  after  matters  there.  Then  I'll  come  to  you 
again,  Mrs.  Barry.  Mr.  Maynard  will  have  a 
chance  to  talk  with  you  while  I'm  gone." 

Again  Mrs.  Barry  held  out  her  hand.  "  You  have 
been  ever  so  good  to  us,  and  we'll  be  glad  indeed 
when  you  can  come  back,  both  of  us.  "Would  you 
mind  telling  cook  to  make  a  little  tea  now  for 
Nathalie."  The  kneeling  girl  shook  her  head  in 
protest,  but  unavailingly.  Mrs.  Stannard  disap- 
peared through  the  dining-room  door  and  went  to 
the  kitchen  just  beyond.  She  returned  in  a  mo- 
ment. 

"  Bridget  isn't  there,  but  I  told  Mary.  She  thinks 
Bridget  may  have  gone  upstairs  a  moment.  She 
left  her  in  the  dining-room.  Mary  will  make  the 
tea." 

"I  didn't  hear  her  go  up,"  said  Mrs.  Barry, 
;<  but  it  may  be.  She's  the  quietest  creature  I  ever 
had  about  the  house,  despite  her  apparent  weight. 
Thank  you  ever  so  much,  Mrs.  Stannard.  I  sup- 
pose there  is  no  use  in  our  writing  to  our  respective 
majors  again.  They  reach  Laramie  to-day,  do  thejr 
not,  Mr.  Maynard  ?" 


182  A  GARRISON  TANOLR. 

"  I  think  so,"  was  the  answer.  "  Isn't  there  a 
map  of  Nebraska  in  the  major's  den  ?  I  can  show 
you  just  how  they  are  marching  in.  The  doctor 
and  I  figured  it  out  on  his  map  this  morning  before 
— before  we  heard  of  this,"  and  again  he  glanced  at 
Nathalie's  bowed  head. 

"  It's  hanging  there  on  the  east  wall,  between  the 
windows,"  said  Mrs.  Barry,  and  rising  and  stepping 
quickly  across  the  hall,  Maynard  entered  the  nar- 
row apartment  in  the  "lean-to"  which  Barry  used 
as  his  study,  office,  library  and  general  loafing  place. 
It  opened  into  Mrs.  Barry's  bedroom,  as  did  also 
the  little  hall.  A  pair  of  heavy  Xavajo  blankets 
hung  in  the  connecting  doorway ;  the  floor  was 
covered  with  a  thick  carpet,  underneath  which  were 
several  thicknesses  of  newspaper — the  universal  ex- 
pedient of  the  old  frontier  days  for  keeping  out  the 
Wyoming  gales.  The  windows  still  wore  their 
winter  battens  of  cotton,  and  the  narrow  den  was 
as  snug  and  secure  from  draughts  as  any  house  at 
Russell  could  be  made,  and  yet  something  had  oc- 
curred to  disturb  those  Navajo  curtains  within  five 
seconds,  for  one  of  them  was  swinging  back  as 
though  it  had  just  been  blown  in  by  a  puff  of  wind. 
Maynard  looked  at  it  in  some  surprise,  but  the 
heavy  folds  quickly  settled  to  rest.  He  did  not 
consider  it  his  province  to  search  for  the  cause  in 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  183 

Mrs.  Barry's  room.  The  rear  window  might  be 
open,  or  the  kitchen  door  which  stood  beyond  the 
arched  entrance  to  the  dining-room.  Lifting  the 
map  from  its  hook  he  turned  to  retrace  his  steps, 
and  right  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  met  Nathalie. 
With  bowed  head  and  averted  eyes  she  brushed  by 
him  and  hastened  up  to  her  room. 

"She  was  so  agitated  and  distressed,  Mr.  May- 
nard,"  explained  his  hostess,  as  the  young  fellow 
returned  to  the  parlor,  "  that  I  had  to  let  her  go  to 
bathe  her  face.  She'll  be  down  again  before 
long." 

But  this  proved  delusive.  Mrs.  Stannard  re- 
mained a  few  moments  to  look  over  the  map  while 
Maynard  pointed  out  where  the  battalion  had  been 
engaged  with  the  Cheyennes,  the  line  of  flight  of 
the  latter  to  the  northern  agencies,  and  the  prob- 
able homeward  course  of  the  regiment,  and  then 
she  took  her  departure.  Mary,  the  maid,  presently 
came  in  with  tea  and  was  tola  to  take  it  up  to  Miss 
Baird,  which  she  did,  and  on  her  return  was  asked 
if  Bridget  was  upstairs  as  had  been  reported,  and 
Mary,  with  a  puzzled  face,  said  no,  neither  was  she 
in  her  own  room  back  of  the  kitchen.  But  a  minute 
later,  after  the  maid  had  retired,  Bridget's  voice 
was  heard  in  the  kitchen,  and  speedily  she,  herself, 
approached  the  parlor  door,  but  stood  respectfully 


184  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

and  modestly  back  in  the  dining-room  and  inquired 
with  great  deference  of  manner,  was  Mrs.  Barry 
needing  anything  ? 

"  Not  now,  Bridget,"  was  the  answer.  "  I  needed 
you  a  few  moments  ago  to  make  some  tea  for  Miss 
Baird." 

"  I'm  so  sorry,  mum,"  said  the  invisible  domestic  ; 
"I  had  just  stepped  over  to  Mrs.  Gregg's  a  moment, 
after  coming  in  to  see  if  anything  was  wanted. 
Isn't  there  something  I  can  do  now,  ma'am  ?" 

"  Nothing,  thank  you,  Bridget,  unless  you'll  step 
up  to  Miss  Baird  and  see  if  you  cannot  suggest 
something  to  coax  her  appetite  ;"  whereupon  Brid- 
get's footsteps  were  heard  passing  through  the  bed- 
room into  the  hall  and  so  on  up  the  stairs,  the 
goddess  of  the  kitchen  thereby  coyly  defeating  the 
possibility  of  being  seen  in  the  garb  of  her  servi- 
tude, as  well  as  avoiding  the  parlor  as  a  thorough- 
fare— not  so  easy  a  matter  to  teach  to  frontier 
"help." 

"  A  most  excellent,  faithful  creature,"  said  Mrs. 
Barry  to  her  visitor,  "  and  so  good  tempered.  She's 
worth  six  of  her  predecessors." 

"  I  hope  she  will  prevail  on  Miss  Baird  to  eat 
something,"  said  Maynard  anxiously.  "  She  seems 
to  have  been  so  ill  for  days  and  weeks." 

"  Poor  child,  yes,"  was  the  answer.     "  And  she 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  185 

has  had  enough  to  drive  a  girl  distracted,  Of 
course,  Mr.  Maynard,  you  must  have  heard  some- 
thing of  her  singular  adventures  of  late." 

"I  have  both  seen  and  heard  something,  Mrs. 
Barry,"  was  the  prompt  reply,  "  and  I'll  stake  my 
all  it's — it's  to  her  credit,  not  to  her  discredit,  if 
anything.  Surely  that  man  must  be  some  kin  of 
her  people.  It  cannot  be  anything  else." 

He  was  glad  of  a  chance  to  champion  her  cause, 
glad  to  show  Mrs.  Barry  the  depth  of  his  faith  and 
trust  in  her,  and  yet  there  was  that  in  his  tone 
which  told  her  he  had  been  harshly  tried,  and  that 
he  longed  for  the  support  of  her  opinion. 

"  That  is  my  conviction,  too,  Mr.  Maynard,"  she 
said,  "  but  the  poor  girl  will  not  even  admit  that. 
There  is  some  tie  or  obligation,  but  what  I  cannot 
imagine.  It  is  all-powerful.  She  seems  to  have 
pledged  her  word  to  silence  about  him.  I'm  pray- 
ing for  the  major's  return,  for  then  I  shall  have 
some  one  to  advise  us  both.  Oh !  What  did  Miss 
Baird  say,  Bridget?" 

And  from  the  hall  came  the  reply  of  the  still  in- 
visible messenger.  "  Miss  Baird  thinks  she  would 
rather  not  try  to  eat  anything  just  now.  She  is 
lying  down,  ma'am,  but  by  and  by  she  will,  I  feel 
sure.  I'll  just  broil  her  some  chicken,  ma'am." 

And  then  abruptly  Bridget  broke  off,  for  a  quick, 


186  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

soldierly  step  was  heard  on  the  creaking  boards 
without,  and  Bridget  hastened  through  the  hall  be- 
fore the  clang  of  the  door  bell  resounded.  "  That's 
one  thing  Bridget  will  not  do,"  explained  Mrs. 
Barry,  with  a  quiet  smile.  "  She  insists  that  Mary 
must  attend  door.  She'd  walk  the  length  of  the 
backyards  of  the  garrison  to  find  her  rather  than 
'tend  door  herself.  There  goes  Mary." 

It  was  the  orderly,  with  the  commanding  officer's 
compliments,  and  he  desired  to  see  Lieutenant  May- 
nard  at  once,  and  in  sore  disappointment  Maynard 
had  to  rise  and  go.  "  Kemember  what  I  say,  Mrs. 
Barry,"  he  repeated  as  he  again  bowed  over  her  ex- 
tended hand.  "  I  shan't  rest  until  I  find  out  the 
truth  about  this  robbery  business  and  clear  her 
utterly.  It  can  be  done  and  it  shall  bo  done." 

"  I  hope  so,"  came  the  answer,  with  a  sigh.  "  I 
hope  so,  yet  everything  seems  so  dark  for  her  just 
now,  and  how  can  we  get  at  the  truth  ?" 

No  wonder  she  asked  herself  as  Maynard  limped 
away  how  it  was  possible  a  raw,  inexperienced 
subaltern  could  discover  anything  when  the  police 
officials  had  done  their  best  and  failed.  They  had 
searched  and  ransacked  every  doubtful  resort, 
every  suspected  house,  shop  or  saloon  in  town,  and 
not  a  vestige  had  been  found  of  the  stolen  property, 
nor  a  trace  of  the  perpetrators  beyond  the  wagon 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  187 

tracks,  lost  all  too  soon  in  the  general  rut  of  traffic 
in  the  busy  frontier  town. 

It  was  but  a  short  distance  to  the  adjutant's 
office,  and  there  Maynard  found  Captain  Walters 
pacing  impatiently  the  floor  of  the  long  room  in  the 
old  headquarters  building.  He  turned  sharply  as 
the  young  officer's  halting  step  was  heard,  and  spoke 
impetuously  : 

"  Mr.  Maynard,  I'm  told  you  have  had  some 
knowledge  of  this  man  they  call  Boston  besides  the 
affair  in  town  the  day  you  tumbled  him  off  your 
horse." 

Maynard  on  entering  had  instinctively  assumed 
the  position  of  a  soldier,  and  stood  there  in  the 
presence  of  the  temporary  post  commander,  erect, 
and  holding  his  cane  and  forage-cap  in  his  hand. 
The  instant  the  captain  began  to  speak,  the  faint 
color  faded  from  Maynard's  face.  In  a  moment  he 
was  pale  as  death.  Looking  straight  at  his  com- 
mander, he  uttered  not  a  word 

"Why  don't  you  answer?"  snapped  "Walters, 
glancing  irritably  at  the  subaltern.  "  I've  had 
enough  worry  over  this  matter  to  drive  a  man  dis- 
tracted. Either  you  have  or  you  haven't.  Now 
which  is  it?" 

And  still  for  another  moment  there  was  silence, 
and  then  Maynard  spoke. 


188  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

"  I  do  not  know,  sir." 

"  You  don't  know  !  Why,  that's  rot,  Mr.  May- 
nard !  You  must  know  whether  you  have  ever 
encountered  that  man  before.  Men  of  his  strength 
and  size  are  not  easily  mistaken." 

Again  a  pause  before  the  answer  came :  "  And  yet, 
captain,  I  cannot  say.  I  am  telling  you  just  as  I 
would  have  to  answer  before  a  court.  The  only 
time  I  ever  saw  his  face  was  that  day  in  town — the 
day  he  headed  the  gang  that  took  our  horses." 

The  commanding  officer  sharply  turned  and 
struck  the  bell  on  his  table,  and  almost  instantly  a 
young  lieutenant  of  infantry  appeared  at  the  room. 
It  was  Warner,  the  temporary  adjutant  of  the  post. 

"Mr.  Warner,  bring  Mr.  Cook  in  here,"  said 
Walters  sharply,  "  and  you  come  too." 

The  lieutenant  beckoned  to  some  one  who  was 
evidently  in  readiness  for  the  summons.  A  power- 
fully built,  gray-eyed,  impassive  sort  of  man  in  a 
loose-fitting  business  suit  appeared  at  the  doorway 
and  silently  awaited  the  captain's  words. 

"  I've  called  you  in  here,  Mr.  Cook,  and  you,  Mr. 
Warner,  to  hear  what  explanation  this  officer  can 
give  of  the  matter  that  has  been  brought  to  my 
ears.  You  persist  in  saying,  Mr.  Maynard,  that 
you  never  saw  this  fellow  'Boston'  except  that  day 
in  town  8" 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  189 

"I  have  never  made  that  statement,  captain," 
answered  Maynard,  flushing  painfully  now,  for  the 
position  in  which  he  was  placed  was  awkward 
enough  without  any  misrepresentation  of  his  words. 
At  a  nod  from  the  captain,  Mr.  Warner  and  the 
stranger  had  taken  chairs,  but  Maynard,  the  invalid, 
was  still  kept  standing  attention.  Warner  was 
several  years  his  senior,  but  the  young  fellow  had 
"  taken  to  him,"  as  the  army  expression  went,  from 
the  day  Warner  first  called  to  see  him  as  he  lay 
fretting  at  the  Stannards.  Even  now  the  latter 
could  not  resist  the  impulse  that  prompted  him  to 
look  to  Warner  for  strength  and  sympathy,  and  the 
brown  eyes  answered  the  mute  appeal,  and  said,  if 
ever  eyes  could  speak,  "  Stand  fast !  I'm  with 
you." 

Walters  slowly  lowered  himself  into  his  chair, 
glaring  the  while  impressively  at  the  troubled 
face  of  the  young  soldier.  It  had  again  turned 
white. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Maynard,  not  three  minutes  ago  you 
said  right  here  you  never  saw  him  except  that  day 
in  town " 

"  Pardon  me,  captain.  I  said  the  only  time  lever 
saw  his  face  was  that  day  in  town." 

"  Then  you  admit  having  seen  his  form  if  not  his 
face — admit  having  seen  him  all  the  same." 


190  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

"No,  sir,  I  do  not  even  admit  that.  Once  or 
twice  I  saw  a  form  that  resembled  his  very  strongly. 
That's  all  I  can  say." 

"Where  was  it?" 

Another  painful  pause.  Maynard  was  young  and 
inexperienced ;  he  did  not  know  how  far  he  might 
be  justified  in  declining  to  answer  a  cross  examina- 
tion that  must  drag  from  him  the  whole  truth  that 
he  had  so  religiously  kept  to  himself  rather  than 
reveal  what  he  had  seen  and  heard  and  suffered, 
and  thereby  probably  surround  her  dear  name  with 
renewed  shame  and  suspicion.  From  the  spirit  and 
letter  of  the  truth  he  could  not  deviate  a  hair's 
breadth.  Neither  on  the  night  of  that  strange  ad' 
venture  in  front  of  Barry's  quarters,  nor  the  miser- 
able afternoon  when  he  saw  the  huge  bulk  of  this 
objectionable  stranger  bending  over  that  slender 
form  away  down  the  row,  had  he  seen  a  single 
feature  of  the  stranger's  face.  Now  it  seemed  as 
though  the  commanding  officer  was  bent  on  drag- 
ging from  him  everything  he  knew,  and  vaguely  he 
felt  that  this  was  not  that  officer's  prerogative,  and 
that  so  long  as  he  held  such  sublime  faith  in 
Nathalie  Baird's  innocence  of  all  complicity  in  or 
knowledge  of  the  recent  robbery,  it  was  not  only  a 
right,  but  a  duty,  to  refuse  to  reveal  anything  that 
might  involve  her  in  deeper  trouble. 


A  (JAllRIXON  TANGLE.  191 

Whether  right  or  wrong  in  this  belief,  Maynard 
had  made  up  his  mind.  Captain  Walters  should 
find  out  nothing  ne\v  at  her  expense  if  a  stubborn 
stand  on  his  part  could  prevent  it.  Of  the  meeting 
between  her  and  the  big  stranger  down  by  the  end 
set  of  quarters,  known  as  No.  1,  everybody  at  the 
post,  apparently,  was  informed.  But  so  far  as  he 
knew,  not  a  soul  in  the  garrison  but  himself  had  any 
knowledge  of  his  meeting  with  that  burly  and  mus- 
cular prowler  under  Nathalie's  window  the  night  of 
the  hop.  All  this  flashed  through  his  mind  and  de- 
termined his  action  before  he  finally  answered : 

"  I  saw  a  man  of  that  general  description  one 
afternoon  down  by  No.  1,  but  I  was  sitting  on  Major 
Stannard's  piazza  away  at  this  end  of  the  row." 

"  Yes,  sir,  we  know  all  about  that.  A  dozen  peo- 
ple saw  him  talking  with  Miss  Baird.  And  he  re- 
sembled the  man  called  *  Boston,'  did  he  ?" 

"In  figure  and  in  general  build,  yes,  sir." 

"And  now  the  other  occasion,  when,  as  reported 
to  me,  you  met  him  face  to  face.  How  abo;.t  that '"' 

Silence  again  for  a  moment,  and  again  Maynard 
glanced  at  Warner  for  support,  and  again  the  deep 
brown  eyes  seemed  to  say :  "  Stand  your  ground." 

"  Captain  Walters,  I  beg  you  not  to  press  that 
question,"  said  Maynard,  respectfully  but  eagerly. 
"  Colonel  Atherton  and  my  brother  officers  will  be 


192  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

horns  in  a  very  few  days.  I  will  answer  to  him — 
to  my  colonel.  But  there  are  reasons  why  I  ought 
not  to  speak  further  on  this  subject  until  I  can  con- 
sult him.  and  Major  Barry." 

"  You  may  just  as  well  answer,  Mr.  Maynard," 
interrupted  the  post  commander  coldly.  "  Your 
refusal  or  hesitation  is  quite  enough  to  stamp  you 
as  guilty  of  what  I  have  been  reluctantly  forced  to 
believe — of  wilfully  concealing  most  important  evi- 
dence in  connection  with  this  most  important  case. 
I  could  not  have  believed  it  of  you  without  the  vir- 
tual admission  on  your  part,  notwithstanding  all  I 
had  heard.  This,  sir,  is  Mr.  Cook,  of  the  Eocky 
Mountain  detective  force,  from  Denver,  and  he  will 
tell  you  what  you  should  long  since  have  told  me. 
Go  ahead,  Mr.  Cook." 

Painfully  now  Maynard  was  leaning  on  his  cane. 
He  half  turned  to  face  the  detective.  Cook  seemed 
perturbed.  He  evidently  liked  the  young  fellow 
better  than  he  did  his  job. 

v  "  It's  just  this,"  he  said.  "  We  know  that  fellow 
Boston  very  well  down  our  way,  and  he  has  been  in 
one  scrape  after  another,  and  he  was  drunk  one 
night  in  a  saloon  here  in  town,  and  some  of  the 
crowd  were  twitting  him  about  the  way  you  pitched 
him  out  of  his  saddle,  and  he  answered  that  it  didn't 
compare  with  the  knock-out  he'd  given  you  right 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  193 

here  in  the  fort  and  right  in  front  of  officers'  quar- 
ters the  night  of  a  hop.  The  barkeeper  gave  it  all 
to  us  later — after  they  had  scattered.  It  was  the 
night  he  got  out  there  at  the  Empire.  He  bragged 
that  he  was  out  here  to  meet  a  lady  at  the  fort,  and 
that  you  had  interfered  and  got  knocked  down  as  a 
result." 

Maynard's  face  was  still  and  cold  and  white. 
Without  flinching  he  gazed  straight  into  the  detect- 
ive's eyes  and  made  no  reply. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Captain  Walters  impatiently. 
"  Now,  what  have  you  to  say  ?" 

"  Nothing,  sir." 

"  You  refuse  to  confirm  or  deny  the  statement  ?" 

*'  I  decline  to  say  anything  until  my  colonel 
conies." 

Captain  Walters  flushed  angrily,  but  kept  his 
temper  well. 

"  You  still  occupy  a  room  at  Major  Stannard's,  I 
believe  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  Mrs.  Stannard  asked  that  my  sister 
and  I  should  remain  under  her  roof  until  the  regi- 
ment returned." 

"  Yery  good,  Mr.  Maynard.  You  may  now  re- 
turn to  your  room  and  consider  yourself  in  close 
arrest." 

Without  a  word,  the  young  officer  faced  about 
and  walked  slowly  and  painfully  home. 


194  A  GAUR180N  TAXGLE. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

MBS.  TURNER  forgot  even  that  Mrs.  Gregg  and 
she  were  not  on  speaking  terms  that  afternoon, 
She  was  calling  at  the  Barrys'  ostensibly  to  bless 
the  inmates  with  her  sympathy,  but  actually  in  the 
hope  of  seeing  Nathalie  and  being  able  to  tell  how 
she  looked  and  what  she  said.  In  tnis,  however, 
she  was  disappointed,  for  Nathalie  kept  her  room, 
and  when  Mrs.  Turner  would  have  gone  aloft  to 
visit  her  there,  Mrs.  Barry,  far  from  assenting,  de- 
clared she  believed  it  best  for  Nathalie  not  to  see 
any  one  until  she  had  slept.  But  while  the  luxury 
of  a  personal  interview  with  the  suspected  girl  was 
denied  her,  and  the  hoped-for  sensation  was  lost, 
Mrs.  Turner  was  treated  to  one  even  greater  and 
most  unexpected. 

Mrs.  Stannard  had  hastily  entered  without  either- 
knocking  or  ringing,  as  had  become  her  custom  of 
late,  and  at  sight  of  Mrs.  Turner  had  as  suddenly 
retired,  closing  the  door  behind  her,  and  hastening 
back  along  the  piazza.  Only  a  half  second's  glance 


A  GAMUSOS  TANGLE.  195 

had  Mrs.  Turner  of  her  face,  but  she  could  swear 
that  Mrs.  Stannard  had  been  crying. 

Then  Mrs.  Turner  was  suddenly  reminded  that 
she  had  not  seen  Grace  Maynard  for  at  least  two 
hours,  and  she  lost  no  time  in  hastening  in  Mrs. 
Stannard's  footsteps.  Miss  Maynard  herself  opened 
the  Stannards'  door  and  let  her  in,  and  Grace's  face 
was  the  picture  of  woe  and  consternation. 

"  Something  dreadful  has  happened,  I  feel  sure  of 
it,"  said  Mrs.  Turner,  the  moment  she  caught  sight 
of  her  friend.  "  Oh,  what  is  it  ?" 

It  was  no  time  to  think  of  recent  differences. 
"  My  brother  has  been  arrested,"  said  Miss  Maynard, 
in  solemn  tones,  and  knowing  no  distinction  between 
that  method  of  expression  and  the  conventional 
form  in  use  in  the  army. 

"Who  —  why — I  can't  understand.  You  don't 
mean  he's  suspected  of  the  robbery  ?  "Who  arrested 
him  ?  Where  is  he — gone  ?" 

"  He  hasn't  gone.  He's  here  io  his  room,"  said 
Miss  Maynard,  with  breaking  voice.  "  It's  Captain 
Walters  who  did  it." 

u  Oh,"  said  Mrs.  Turner,  disappointed  in  spite  of 
her  better  nature,  "  been  placed  under  arrest,  you 
mean.  Oh,  that's  so  different,  but  what  for — why  ?" 
and  the  eagerness  in  the  fair  lady's  face  and  tone 
was  unmistakable, 


196  A  GARKISON  TAN  OLE. 

"  He  will  not  tell,"  answered  Miss  Maynard,"  and 
that  is  why  I'm  certain  it  is — on  that  girl's  account. 
She  has  led  him  from  one  trouble  into  another.  Do 
come  in  awhile.  I'm  so — so  miserable  I  don't  know 
what  to  do,  and  Eonald  acts  like  a  crazy  man.  He 
doesn't  want  even  me  in  his  room." 

But  Mrs.  Turner's  ministrations  were  all  too  brief 
and  uncomforting.  They  consisted  in  a  sharp  and 
rapid  fire  of  cross  questions  which  evoked  none  of 
the  looked-for  information  as  to  cause,  or  even  as  to 
the  allegations,  and  Mrs.  Turner  lost  her  accustomed 
equipoise  in  finding  she  was  losing  time.  Nothing 
more  sensational  had  occurred  at  Russell  for  nearly 
two  years,  and  the  bliss  of  being  the  first  to  break 
the  news  to  half  a  dozen  households  might  be  lost 
to  her  entirely  if  she  did  not  act  at  once.  She 
longed  for  Mrs.  Stannard's  reappeat  ance,  but  her 
room  door  remained  obstinately  closed.  When  it 
became  apparent  that  Miss  Maynard  really  knew 
nothing  about  the  matter,  and  that  it  was  useless  to 
question  further,  the  energetic  and  now  thoroughly 
aroused  lady  decided  that  she  must  go  and  go  at 
once.  So,  despite  her  cherished  fri.nd's  remon- 
strances, she  bade  her  adieu,  declaring  she  had 
faithfully  promised  to  be  at  Mrs.  Ray's  twenty 
minutes  ago,  and  so  hastened  to  the  door,  only  to  be 
there  confronted  by  a  sight  that  made  her  pause. 


A  OARHISON  TANGLE.  197 

Mr.  Warner,  the  acting  adjutant,  accompanied  by  a 
stout  party  in  gray  business  suit,  had  just  entered 
the  gate  and  met  her  face  to  face. 

Warner  politely  raised  his  cap  and  smilingly  asked 
if  they  could  see  Mrs.  Stannard  a  moment.  Mrs. 
Turner  didn't  know,  but  would  inquire.  So  she 
returned  and  asked  Miss  Maynard,  and  Miss  May- 
nard  went  into  the  dining-room  and  tapped  at  Mrs. 
Stannard's  door.  No  answer.  She  peeped  in.  No 
one  was  there.  An  appeal  to  the  servant  resulted 
in  the  information  that  Mrs.  Stannard  had  stepped 
out  through  the  kitchen  and  gone  around  to  Mrs. 
Barry's,  thereby;  as  was  at  once  apparent,  dodging 
Mrs.  Turner  and  her  inevitable  questionings— and  a 
flush  that  extended  beyond  the  customary  limits  was 
on  that  injured  lady's  face  as  she  communicated  to 
Mr.  Warner  the  information  that  they  would  prob- 
ably find  Mrs.  Stannard  at  Mrs.  Barry's,  next 
door.  Should  she  go  and  call  her  ?  Warner  said 
no,  thanks,  they  had  also  to  see  Mr.  Maynard,  and 
they  would  go  right  up  to  his  room;  and  go  they  did, 
leaving  her  and  Miss  Maynard  gazing  after  them 
up  the  narrow  stairway,  and  listening  for  the 
colloquy  that  would  follow  the  knock  at  the  young 
officer's  door.  They  heard  him  say  almost  heartily, 
"  Oh,  come  right  in,  Warner.  I'm  so  glad  you're 
here,"  and  then,  with  certain  coldness  and  hesit* 


i9g  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

tion,  "Why,  certainly,  if  you  say  so.  Come  in, 
Mr.  Cook."  Then  the  door  closed  and  the  sound  of 
voices  became  an  inaudible  murmur. 

But  Mrs.  Turner  forgot  that  engagement  with 
Mrs.  Kay  for  full  ten  minutes  more,  and  then  the 
visitors  came  clattering  down,  and  Warner  bowed 
most  courteously  to  the  lady  as  he  passed  the  parlor 
door,  and  asked  Mrs.  Turner  if  she  would  be  so 
very  kind  as  to  see  if  Mrs.  Barry  would  receive  him 
with  a  gentleman  from  Denver,  for  just  five  minutes. 
This  Mrs.  Barry  proved  not  only  willing  but  glad  to 
do,  but  poor  Mrs.  Turner  had  to  return  to  wonder 
with  Miss  Maynard  full  five  minutes  more  what  it 
all  could  possibly  mean  before  she  again  bethought 
herself  of  lost  opportunties,  and  so  finally  hastened 
away  to  spread  the  stirring  tidings.  It  was  force 
of  habit  that  led  her  straight  to  Mrs.  Gregg's  and 
launched  her,  impetuous  and  unannounced,  into 
that  astonished  and  indignant  presence. 

The  fine  feminine  scorn  in  the  visage  of  her  old- 
time  friend  and  crony  recalled  Mrs.  Turner  to  her- 
self. 

"  Oh,  I  forgot,1'  she  exclaimed  ;  "  but  now  that  I 
am  here  I  might  just  as  well  ask  you  if  you've 
heard  the  news,"  and  even  in  her  haste  and  per- 
turbation Mrs.  Turner  showed  the  soul  of  the 
diplomatist.  Had  she  simply  burst  out  with  the 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  199 

announcement,  Mrs.  Gregg  could  then  have  crush- 
ingly  asked,  as  she  had  on  a  former  occasion,  "  And 
did  you  consider  that  an  acceptable  excuse  for  this 
intrusion?"  Now  wifel}7  anxiety  and  womanly 
curiosity  overmastered  pride  and  resentment.  She 
had  to  gasp,  "No.  What?"  for  her  husband  and 
the  regiment  were  her  first  thoughts,  and  so  having 
spoken,  the  veil  was  lifted,  the  ice  was  broken.  She 
heard  the  announcement  of  Maynard's  arrest  and 
the  presence  of  "  such  strange  looking  men,  sheriff's 
officers,  probably/'  without  much  emotion.  She 
had  meant  to  cut  Mrs.  Turner  dead  and  never  speak 
to  her  again,  but  now  she  was  trapped.  At  least  it 
opened  the  door  for  her  to  pitch  in  to  her  neighbor 
and  give  her  the  piece  of  her  mind  for  which  her 
soul  had  been  longing  for  days,  but  Mrs.  Turner 
sniffed  the  coming  battle,  and  was  up  and  away 
triumphant. 

"  I  can't  stop.  I've  got  an  engagement  at  Mrs. 
Kay's,  but  I  was  so  excited  by  what  has  happened 
that  I  just  had  to  drop  in  the  first  house  I  came  to." 
Then  away  she  went,  and  Mrs.  Gregg  had  not  so 
much  as  a  chance  for  a  crushing  word.  Verily  Mrs. 
Turner  was  a  tactician. 

It  was  not  long,  of  course,  before  the  garrison 
had  the  news.  The  band  came  out  to  play  ;  so  did 
the  children ;  while  their  mothers  gathered  on  the 


200  -4  GARRISON  TA1TGLB 

front  piazzas  and  engaged  in  earnest  talk,  even 
while  keeping  an  eye  out  for  Warner  and  the 
stranger  from  Denver.  They  had  remained  at  the 
Barrys  nearly  twenty  minutes,  and  had  gone  again 
next  door,  presumably  upstairs  to  Maynard's  room. 
Then, leaving  Mr. Cook  thereat  Stannards',  Warner 
had  gone  briskly  over  to  the  office.  When  he  was 
finally  seen  returning,  many  fair  faces,  some  of  them 
sad  and  sweet,  and  full  of  painful  interest,  others 
eager  with  curiosity,  were  turned  toward  him,  and 
had  he  been  many  another  fellow,  Warner  might 
have  had  his  head  turned  by  such  display  of  interest. 
He  understood  and  correctly  estimated  it  all,  how- 
ever. It  wasn't  the  first  time,  poor  fellow,  he  had 
had  to  visit  an  officer  of  the  — th,  and  a  regimental 
favorite,  too,  when  in  arrest,  and  now,  though  many 
of  the  number  were  women  whom  he  could  trust 
and  to  whom  he  would  be  glad  to  tell  how  blameless 
he  considered  Maynard,  he  feared  that  it  would  be 
difficult  to  discriminate  where  so  many  were  evi- 
dently on  the  alert.  He  darted  into  Stannard's, 
therefore,  and  when  he  reappeared  and  walked 
gravely  down  the  long  line,  his  civilian  friend  slowly 
pacing  at  his  side  and  listening  with  evident  enjoy- 
ment  to  the  music  of  the  band,  the  young  adjutant 
raised  his  cap  as  he  passed  group  after  group,  but 
made  no  stop  whatever.  At  the  old  east  gate  a 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  201 

buggy  was  waiting,  and  into  this  he  assisted  Mr. 
Cook,  saw  him  started  back  to  Cheyenne,  and  then, 
to  the  scandal  of  many  an  expectant  and  impatient 
fair  one,  marched  back  across  the  open  parade, 
entirely  out  of  range,  spoke  a  word  to  the  band- 
leader to  cover  his  otherwise  unaccountable  devia- 
tion from  the  path  of  rectitude  and  officers'  row, 
then  dove  into  his  office  and  disappeared. 

"  Well,  I  never  knew,"  said  Mrs.  Turner,  "  that 
Mr.  Warner  could  be  no  mean." 

It  had  been  blowing  fitfully  during  the  early 
afternoon,  but  by  five  o'clock  the  wind  was  strong 
from  the  northwest,  and  instead  of  the  customary 
lull  at  sundown,  there  came  a  steady  gale.  Women 
gathered  their  children  to  roost  at  an  earlier  hour 
than  usual,  and  there  was  no  frolicsome  band  chas- 
ing and  shouting  about  the  parade  in  the  long 
spring  twilight.  There  was  less  visiting  to  and  fro, 
and  only  near  neighbors  dropped  in  to  chat  about 
the  latest  phase  in  the  garrison  sensation,  and  to 
wish  it  wouldn't  blow  so  hard  at  Russell.  Many 

• 

would  have  liked  to  spend  an  hour  at  Mrs.  Barry's, 
but  were  deterred  from  attempting  it  because  it 
\\'as  early  given  out  that  she  was  much  fatigued  and 
depressed  by  the  events  of  the  last  few  days.  Mrs. 
Stannard  was  with  her,  and  Marion  Ray  and  Mrs. 
Freeman  for  a  time  had  been  admitted.  Others 


202  4  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

called  with  polite  inquiries  for  both  the  ladies,  and 
Mary,  the  housemaid,  had  her  answer  pat.  Mrs. 
Barry  was  not  very  well  and  begged  to  be  excused, 
and  Miss  Baird  was  lying  down.  It  was  Bridget's 
evening  out,  for  even  on  the  far  frontier  did  our 
domestic  tyrants  hold  their  employers  to  the  weekly 
allowance  of  social  freedom.  It  had  been  that 
cheery  and  good-natured  goddess'  practice  to  drive 
to  town  in  a  carry-all,  owned  by  the  old  retired  sol- 
dier hitherto  mentioned,  who  ran  a  sort  of  'bus  line 
for  the  benefit,  avowedly,  ^of  the  men  on  pass,  and 
the  domestics  on  pleasure  bent,  but  quite  as  much 
for  that  of  his  own  plethoric  old  pocketbook.  He 
was  forbidden  the  road  within  the  post  because  of 
certain  contraband  traffic  in  his  past.  But  all  that 
was  necessary  to  secure  his  services  was,  as  he  an- 
nounced, for  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  post 
to  leave  their  order  at  the  band  quarters,  and  sharp 
at  seven  he  would  begin  the  rounds  of  the  back 
gates,  and  with  a  crowded  vehicle  go  spinning  away 
to  town. 

Mrs.  Barry  had  imagined  that  Bridget  would 
forego  her  visit  on  account  of  the  gale,  but  Mrs. 
Barry  was  mistaken.  In  gala  attire,  her  valued 
cook  appeared  to  ask,  as  she  always  did,  could  she 
do  anything  for  Mrs.  Barry  in  town,  and  that  lady 
thanked  her,  said  no,  but  expressed  some  anxiety 
as  to  Bridget's  going. 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  203 

"  Oh,  we'll  get  there  all  right,  mum,"  said  she, 
briskly.  "  The  wind's  with  us  every  inch  of  the 
way ;  but  would  Mrs.  Barry  mind  very  much  if  I 
stayed  with  friends  in  town  and  came  out  to-morrow 
if  it  blows  harder  ?  It's  the  coming  back  that'll  try 
the  old  man's  horses." 

"  "Well,  how  can  you  get  out  in  the  morning  ?" 
was  the  question.  "  The  stage  doesn't  come  until 
nearly  noon." 

"  Oh,  I'll  get  my — I  have  friends  who  can  bring 
me  out,  ma'am,"  was  Bridget's  confident  answer. 
So  the  requisite  permission  was  given  and  the  cook 
departed  in  peace.  When  the  carry-all  came  a  few 
minutes  later  she  was  ready  at  the  gate,  a  big 
satchel  in  her  hand. 

That  night  when  "  taps  "  was  sounded  few  people 
heard  it  at  all  because  of  the  gale.  Nathalie  had 
itolen  downstairs,  white  and  wan,  and  was  kneeling 
by  Mrs.  Barry's  couch,  while  Mrs.  Stannard  read 
aloud.  Xot  a  whisper  had  been  permitted  to  reach 
the  gill  of  Maynard's  arrest.  She  knew  of  the 
visit  of  "Warner  and  the  man  from  Denver,  and  was 
told  that  they  had  come  for  an  accurate  description 
of  the  missing  property,  and  so  they  had,  despite 
the  fact  that  Mr.  Cook  already  knew  almost  all 
that  could  be  told.  He  had  not,  however,  called  on 
Mrs.  Gregg  or  Mrs.  Freeman.  He  was  greatly  in- 


$504  A  GARRISON  TANGLh. 

terested  in  Mrs.  Barry's  case — in  closely  studying 
the  window  through  which  the  professionals  had 
entered  the  house,  and  in  her  description  of  the 
symptoms  by  which  she  had  been  assailed — the  un- 
canny stupor  and  drowsiness  that  oppressed  her  so 
long.  Mrs.  Barry  answered  all  questions  fully,  yet 
wondered  at  their  tenor.  He  had  even  asked  if  he 
might  look  about  the  kitchen  and  servants'  rooms, 
and  Mrs.  Barry  assured  him  that  their  rooms  had 
been  searched  by  Captain  Walters'  order,  and  noth- 
ing been  found.  That  so  far  from  resenting  it, 
Bridget  was  the  first  to  urge  that  it  might  be  done 
so  that  she  and  Mary  could  be  cleared  of  all  suspi- 
cion of  complicity.  They  were  both  such  faithful 
and  devoted  creatures.  Mary  had  been  with  her 
for  years  and  Bridget  came  with  the  best  of  recom- 
mendations from  her  former  employers.  Mr.  Cook 
protested  that  his  purpose  was  not  to  search  for 
anything  but  traces  of  the  burglars,  yet  he  glanced 
more  than  once  at  Mary  and  looked  about  as  though 
in  search  of  Bridget,  who  had  just  stepped  over  to 
a  neighbor's  a  moment,  so  Mary  told  her  mistress. 
Then  he  went  back  and  again  closely  examined  the 
rear  window  of  the  dining-room,  the  one  which  the 
burglars  had  so  thoughtlessly  left  open  on  their  de- 
parture. The  iron  snap  catch  which  held  the  lower 
sash  down  had  been  forced  off  and  was  found  the 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  205 

morning  of  t  he-disco  very  of  the  robbery  lying  on  the 
floor  under  the  window.  Mr.  Cook  had  raised  the 
sash,  studying  it  within  and  without,  all  the  time 
whistling  softly  and  saying  nothing,  and  his  pro- 
ceedings had  affected  Mary  to  the  extent  of  having 
to  declare  to  Mrs.  Stannard  at  tea  time,  she  was  that 
nervous  she  didn't  know  how  to  stand. 

And  with  Bridget  now  gone  and  the  gale  growing 
and  no  one  to  talk  to  after  ten  o'clock  Mary  had 
become  more  and  more  nervous.  Mrs.  Stannard 
found  her  sitting  in  the  kitchen  a  little  later,  looking 
white  and  miserable,  and  asked  her  why  she  didn't 
go  to  bed,  whereat  the  poor  girl  began  to  weep. 
She  couldn't  explain  it,  she  said,  but  she  felt  all 
creepy  and  queer.  She  was  afraid  to  stay  alone. 
She  was  sure  something  was  going  to  happen,  and 
Mrs.  Barry,  always  kind  and  sympathetic,  bade  the 
girl  make  a  bed  for  herself  on  the  couch.  She 
would  be  glad  to  have  her  near  her  this  night  any 
way,  in  case  she  desired  to  communicate  with 
Nathalie. 

It  must  have  been  after  eleven  o'clock  when  Mrs. 
Barry  succeeded  in  sending  Nathalie  to  her  room. 
By  that  time  she  was  comfortably  stowed  away  for 
the  night  in  her  own  white  bed.  She  had  Mary 
close  at  hand  and  needed  no  further  attention.  Mrs. 
Stannard  had  been  stationed  at  Russell  long  before, 


208  -4  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

and  was  well  accustomed  to  the  violence  of  the 
Wyoming  gales,  and  to  the  rocking  and  creaking  of 
the  old  wooden  quarters,  but  it  seemed  to  her  as 
though  the  spite  and  fury  of  the  wind  had  quickened 
at  the  sound  of  the  ten  o'clock  bugle,  and  before 
leaving  her  friend  for  the  night  she  took  a  look  into 
the  kitchen  to  see  that  all  was  safe  and  snug.  The 
fire  had  been  carefully  banked  over  with  ashes  in 
the  big  cooking  stove.  The  bracket  lamp  was  ex- 
tinguished, but  the  door  leading  into  the  girls'  room 
swung  uneasily  on  its  hinges  and  banged  against  its 
frame,  driven  by  the  draught  that  would  leak  in 
through  invisible  chink  or  cranny.  Setting  her  own 
band  lamp  on  the  table,  she  firmly  closed  the  door 
to  prevent  its  further  slamming,  and  then,  leaving 
the  kitchen  in  total  darkness,  except  for  a  dull  red 
glimmer  through  a  crack  in  the  stove,  she  returned 
to  the  front  of  the  house,  bade  her  friend  an  affec- 
tionate good-night,  and  buffeted  by  the  storm,  scur- 
ried along  the  front  piazza  and  let  herself  in  at  her 
own  door.  A  light  was  burning  on  the  landing 
above,  and  Miss  Maynard  had  evidently  gone  aloft, 
for  the  parlor  lamps  were  turned  low.  Yes,  her 
voice  was  audible.  She  was  in  her  brother's  room. 
Carefully,  as  she  had  done  next  door,  Mrs.  Stannard 
inspected  her  own  kitchen,  and  finding  everything 
•afe  there,  called  aloft  to  know  if  Mr.  or  Miss  May- 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  20? 

nard  needed  anything,  and  then  bade  them  a  cheery 
good-night. 

"  Don't  mind  the  wind.  It  is  swinging  round 
now  and  blowing  from  the  northeast — a  most  un- 
usual thing,  and  I  can't  help  thinking  it  will  stop 
before  morning." 

But  she  fancied  from  Miss  Maynard's  somewhat 
choky  tone  that  she  had  been  crying,  and  thinking 
over  this  and  other  matters,  it  was  quite  a  while  be- 
fore Mrs.  Stannard  got  fairly  asleep. 

Midnight  had  long  gone  by.  Old  Fritz  and  his 
ghostly  team  and  carry-all  had  returned  and  been 
safely  housed,  and  still  one  light,  and  only  one, 
seemed  to  burn  brightly  along  officers'  row.  It 
shone  through  the  shade  of  the  dormer  window  of 
the  front  room  in  the  Stannards'  half  of  the  big 
double  house  assigned  to  the  two  majors,  the  room 
now  occupied  by  Mr.  Maynard.  The  sentry  on  No. 
1  noted  it  as  he  called  off  at  half-past  twelve.  The 
corporal  of  the  guard  noted  it  as  he  made  his  lonely 
round,  for  since  the  robbery  old  Walters  had  his  guard 
patrol  the  post.  But  that  light  and  those  at  the 
guardhouse  were  all  the  corporal  could  see  until 
just  about  half-past  one,  when  a  woman's  awful 
scream  was  borne  upon  the  gale,  and  a  sudden  glare 
burst  from  the  rear  of  the  Barrys'  quarters.  A 
sheet  of  flame  leaped  from  the  annex,  and  tore 


208  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

under  the  eaves,  and  lapped  and  lashed  about  the 
dormer  window  at  the  north,  the  snapping  and 
crackling  of  glass  and  shingles  instantly  responding. 
Bang  went  the  sentry's  piece,  as  he  yelled  the  alarm 
of  fire.  Rush  went  the  corporal  across  the  parade^ 
reaching  the  roadway  in  time  to  meet  Lieutenant 
Maynard  staggering  out  through  blinding  smoke 
with  Mrs.  Barry  in  his  arras,  and  then  diving  in 
again  the  instant  he  had  laid  her  down,  to  be  lost  to 
view  an  entire  minute,  then  to  reappear,  followed 
by  a  broad  sheet  of  flame,  scorched,  blistered, 
blinded  and  half  suffocated,  to  come  stumbling1  into 
the  narrow  yard  in  front,  and  to  fall  headlong  over 
the  blanket-swathed  burden  he  bore  clasped  to  his 
breast. 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  209 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  wild  excitement  and  dread 
night  lived  long  in  the  memory  of  every  family  at 
the  post.  But  for  the  most  unusual,  though  for- 
tunate, change  in  the  direction  of  the  blast,  all 
officers'  row  on  the  northeast  front  must  have  been 
swept  away,  as,  on  another  well-remembered  night, 
the  quarters  of  the  infantry — all  of  officers'  row  on 
the  northwest  side — had  melted  away  in  a  flood  of 
flame  some  years  before.  With  the  garrison  gone 
there  was  no  fire  department,  and  even  had  there 
been  one  of  metropolitan  proportions,  it  could  have 
accomplished  next  to  nothing.  The  big  tinder-box 
jointly  occupied  by  Majors  Barry  and  Stannard 
was  swept  away  as  though  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye.  In  less  than  ten  minutes  of  the  alarm  a  broad 
sheet  of  fire  swept  across  the  roadway  and  far  out 
upon  the  parade,  licking  up  the  fence  like  a  row  of 
matches  and  blistering  the  hopeful  young  cotton- 
woods,  just  budding  along  the  bordering  acequia, 
while  in  less  than  twenty  only  a  mass  of  glowing 
embers  lay  glaring  in  the  fiercely  fanning  gale,  and 


210  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

every  vestige  of  the  goods  and  chattels  had  gone  to 
feed  the  flames.  The  marvel  was  that  the  inmates 
got  out  at  all. 

First  to  discover  the  fire  was  Mrs.  Barry,  aroused 
by  dense  and  suffocating  smoke,  and  a  sound  of 
snapping  and  crackling  in  the  kitchen.  She  called 
Mary,  who  sprang  from  her  couch,  rushed  to  the 
kitchen  door,  and,  with  an  awful  shriek,  recoiled 
before  the  instant  rush  of  the  flames  into  the  dining- 
room.  Maynard,  still  writing  in  his  room,  heard, 
flew  down  the  stairs,  stumbled  over  her  on  the 
front  piazza,  then  bending  low,  broke  through  the 
dense  smoke  now  pouring  through  the  little  hall, 
found  Mrs.  Barry  feebly  striving  to  reach  the  door- 
way, and  bore  her,  half  suffocated,  into  the  open 
air.  Then,  facing  flame  now  as  well  as  deadening 
smoke,  had  dashed  up  the  stairs  and  burst  into 
Nathalie's  blazing  room.  The  girl  had  managed  to 
reach  the  wardrobe  and  to  throw  about  her  the 
very  wrap  she  wore  the  morning  she  answered 
Maloney's  impudent  summons,  and  then  had  fallen, 
helpless  and  half  stifled,  unable  to  open  her  door. 
Reckless  of  himself,  Maynard  dragged  the  blanket 
from  the  bed,  wrapped  it  about  the  slender  and  be- 
loved form,  lifted  her  like  a  child  in  his  strong 
arms,  and,  followed  by  the  seething  tongues  of 
flame,  singeing  his  hair,  eyebrows  and  mustache, 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

and  scorching  the  skin  of  his  face  and  hands,  and 
neck  and  ears,  had  gone  bounding  down  the  row  of 
blazing  balusters  and  out  into  the  open  air  before 
he  fell,  blinded,  burned  and  almost  suffocated,  but 
triumphant.  The  guard  was  there  in  two  minutes, 
the  bandsmen  and  "  doughboys"  soon  came  rushing 
from  their  quarters.  "Women  and  children  poured, 
shrieking,  from  the  houses  nearest,  while  others,  less 
alarmed,  hurried  from  those  farther  down  the  row. 
"Warner  was  at  the  spot  as  quick  as  the  guard,  and, 
under  his  cool-headed  direction,  tho  rescued  ladies 
were  carried  or  led  to  Mrs.  Ray's,  and  then  they 
sent  to  the  hospital  for  a  stretcher  for  poor  May- 
nard,  writhing  in  terrible  pain,  while  his  sister, 
swaying  to  and  fro,  from  side  to  side,  knelt  with 
clasped  hands,  moaning  and  sobbing  and  imploring 
people  to  do  something  for  him,  deaf  to  his  stern 
admonition  of  silence,  and  only  ceasing  when  he 
sought  to  stagger  to  his  feet  and  leave  her.  Over 
him,  presently,  bent  "Walters,  shocked  and  sore  dis- 
tressed. To  him  soon  came  the  little  doctor,  and 
through  a  lane  of  weeping  women  and  children 
they  bore  him  to  the  captain's  quarters  down  the 
row — Walters  would  admit  of  nothing  less — and 
there  with  soft  cotton  and  sweet  oil  and  soothing 
lotions,  with  tender  hands  and  words  of  boundleti 
praise  and  sympathy,  they  did  their  utmost  to  «om- 


212  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

fort  and  to  soothe.  When  the  fire,  swept  by  the 
gale  away  from  the  rest  of  the  row,  had  burned  it- 
self out  and  Walters  could  hasten  to  the  bedside  of 
the  brave  young  fellow,  he  almost  sobbed  aloud 
when  he  strove  to  answer  Maynard's  half  apolo- 
getic— 

"  Broke  my  arrest,  sir^-but  couldn't  help  it." 
Meantime,  though  suffering  shock  and  partial 
suffocation,  Mrs.  Barry  and  Miss  Baird  were  pro- 
nounced uninjured,  and  were  being  devotedly  at- 
tended at  Mrs.  Eay's.  Mary,  the  housemaid,  was 
still  in  a  semi-hysterical  state  and  required  more 
waiting  on  than  all  the  other  fire  sufferers  com- 
bined. Mrs.  Stannard  and  Miss  Maynard,  aroused 
by  her  shrieks  and  Maynard's  dash  downstairs,  had 
instantly  donned  their  wrappers  and  slippers  and 
made  their  way  to  the  open  air,  where,  forgetful  of 
everything  else,  they  had  devoted  themselves  to 
their  next-door  neighbors.  Mrs.  Stannard's  serv- 
ants, sleeping  in  the  annex  beyond  the  point  where 
the  flames  started  in  the  Barrys'  quarters,  had 
escaped  without  trouble,  saving  most  of  their 
belongings.  Mary,  but  for  her  utter  collapse,  might 
have  done  as  well,  for  the  smoke  and  flame  blew 
through  the  house  and  away  from  the  rear  of  the 
annex,  but,  as  it  was,  every  stitch  she  owned,  other 
than  what  she  had  on,  went  up  in  smoke,  and  what 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  318 

was  presumably  of  much  greater  consequence,  Brid- 
get's finery  was  reduced  to  ashes,  and,  as  a  sympa- 
thizing sister  cook  remarked,  "  She  not  even  there 
to  see." 

And  then  when  the  fire  was  all  over  and  had 
fairly  burned  itself  out,  and  the  pale  dawn  came 
creeping  iato  the  eastern  sky,  Walters,  Warner  and 
the  doctor  were  still  poking  about  the  ruins,  won- 
dering how  on  earth  the  thing  could  have  started. 
There  was  not  a  suggestion  of  a  clue.  All  was  safe 
and  suu£  when  Mrs.  Stannard  visited  the  kitchen  ; 

O  ' 

all  was  dark  and  quiet,  but  for  the  wind,  when  the 
corporal  made  his  rounds ;  all  was  dark  and  quiet, 
said  old  Fritz,  when  he  drove  by  the  back  gate 
toward  midnight.  No,  Miss  O'JVIeara — which  was 
garrison  for  Bridget — had  not  returned  with  him. 
"  Mrs.  Atherton's  ladies,"  however,  had  done  so, 
and  so  had  two  prominent  instrumentalists — the 
bass  drummer  and  piccolo  of  the  band,  who  had 
escorted  those  domestics  to  a  show  in  town  ;  and 
this  quartette  backed  Fritz  in  his  statements. 
There  wasn't  a  sign  of  fire,  nor  were  any  of  his 
passengers  smoking  as  they  passed  along  back  of 

the  row. 

But  Warner  kept  up  his  investigations  nfter  his 
commander  had  gone  and  the  day  had  ceme,  and, 
despite  the  fact  that  many  soldiers'  feet  had 


214  A  GARRISON  TANGLB. 

trampled  the  ground,  there,  in  the  dust  of  the  old 
roadway  beyond  the  rear  fence,  he  found  overlying 
the  well-known  trail  of  Fritz's  team  and  wagon,  the 
unmistakable  print  of  a  horse's  hoofs  and  a  buggy's 
wheels.  Even  before  arousing  his  weary  captain 
with  this  important  information,  he  had  dispatched 
a  mounted  messenger  to  town  with  a  note  to  Cook. 

"Majors  Stannard  and  Barry's  quarters  de- 
stroyed by  fire  about  one  thirty  A.  M."  he  wrote. 
"  Inmates  safe — everything  else  consumed.  Bridget 
O'M.  went  to  town  at  seven  p.  M.  and  is  still  absent, 
but  a  single  buggy  stopped  at  Barry's  rear  gate, 
and  there  turned  and  drove  back.  It  must  have 
been  between  twelve  and  one-thirty.  Better  come 
out,  quick  as  possible." 

And  within  the  hour  Cook  was  on  his  way. 

Meanwhile  the  gale  had  worn  itself  out,  as  had 
the  fire,  and  comparative  calm  settled  down  on  the 
post.  The  little  doctor  looked  well-nigh  used  up 
when  he  overhauled  his  few  patients  at  the  hospital 
at  sick  call,  but  he  had  still  much  to  do  and  could 
not  give  up.  Telegrams  had  been  sent  to  Laramie 
notifying  the  two  majors  of  the  destruction  of  their 
quarters  and  the  safety  of  the  occupants,  and  in  a 
marvelously  short  time  their  answer  was  received. 
The  two  battalion  commanders  were  coming  by  the 
first  stage,  while  Atherton  and  the  regiment  re- 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  215 

turned  by  the  usual  easy  marches.  The  majors 
should  reach  Russell  with  the  morrow's  sun.  To 
Barry  the  loss  was  far  heavier  in  books  and  bric-a- 
brac  and  furniture  than  to  his  brother  campaigner. 
Stannard  and  his  devoted  wife  had  long  made  it 
their  practice  to  live  in  the  simplest  way,  and  3rears 
in  Arizona  had  taught  them  how  comfortable  they 
could  be  with  very  little  in  the  line  of  household 
goods.  What  they  had  lost — Mrs.  Stannard's  gowns 
and  laces  being  the  only  very  valuable  items — was 
fully  covered  by  insurance,  and  Barry  had  taken 
similar  precautions.  But  he  was  a  lover  of  books 
and  pictures  and  little  objects  of  art  gathered  in 
their  foreign  travel,  and  no  mcney  could  repay  him 
the  loss  of  such  treasures.  All  this  was  fruit  for  the 
breakfast-table  chat  about  the  post,  and  of  greater 
consequence,  apparently,  than  the  shock  to  Mrs. 
Barry,  the  almost  desperately  heroic  rescue  of  Miss 
Baird,  and  the  now  painful  plight  of  her  rescuer. 
Nursed  by  his  sister  and  an  attendant  from  the 
hospital,  Maynard  lay  under  "Walters'  roof,  ban- 
daged, blinded,  and  suffering  torment  from  the  burns 
on  his  hands  and  head,  yet  thinking  less  of  this  than 
of  the  fact  that  his  enforced  confinement  came  at  a 
time  when  every  faculty  he  possessed  should  hare 
been  brought  to  bear ;  for  Maynard  believed  he  had 
found  the  clue  to  the  burglary,  and  a  means  of 


216  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

sweeping  away  the  cloud  that  hung-  over  tho  rmf 
of  Nathalie  Baird,  and  he  begged  the  doctor  and 
Warner  to  let  him  have  a  few  words  with  Mr.  Cook 
as  soon  as  possible. 

It  was  barely  eight  when  that  official  drove  into 
the  garrison  and  joined  Mr.  Warner.  It  was  not 
half  an  hour  later  when  another  buggy  arrived  and 
deposited  Miss  O'Meara  and  her  big  bag  at  the 
back  gate  opening  on  Mrs.  Gregg's  quarters,  into 
the  kitchen  of  which  she  instantty  disappeared. 
The  buggy,  almost  as  quickly,  began  to  turn  about, 
but  stentorian  shouts  from  up  the  row  assailed  the 
driver's  ears,  and  he  reined  in  his  horse  and  waited. 
The  shouters  were  Warner  and  Mr.  Cook,  who 
issued  from  the  rear  gate  opening  on  the  still  smok- 
ing ruins,  and  came  running  down  to  the  much-sur- 
prised occupant  of  the  "  rig."  Cook's  face  took  on 
a  shade  of  disappointment  at  sight  of  him. 

"  Oh,  it's  you,  is  it,  Jimmy,"  he  said,  in  almost 
aggrieved  tone,  for  he  recognized  in  the  man  an 
employee  at  the  very  stable  at  which  he  hired  his 
own  "  outfit."  "  What  brings  you  here  so  early  ?" 

"  Orders,"  said  Jimmy  briefly,  he  being  a  dis 
charged  soldier.  "  Boss  told  me  to  hitch  up  Billy 
and  drive  that  lady  out  to  the  fort.  She  said 
there'd  been  a  fire  and  she  was  afraid  her  property 
was  destroyed." 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  317 

"  Well,  how'd  she  know  ?  The  paper  has  no 
mention  of  it." 

"I  dunno.  First  I  heard  of  it  was  what  she 
told." 

"  Well,  why  didn't  you  drive  on  up  to  where  the 
fire  was,  then  ?" 

"  She  told  me  where  to  stop.  Said  she  wanted  to 
see  some  friends  first  thing.  She  settled  with  the 
boss  for  the  rig,  so  I  had  nothing:  to  say.  Boss 

O'  •/ 

said  to  get  back  quick  as  I  could.  What  was  the 
fire?" 

"  Oh,  a  couple  of  houses — upper  end  of  the  row. 
But  you  just  hold  on  where  you  are,  or  drive  down 
and  hitch  at  the  store.  I'll  be  responsible  to  the 
proprietor.  I  may  want  your  buggy,  and — Jimmy, 
no  talk."  In  so  saying  Mr.  Cook  was  impressive. 
Then  he  turned  to  Warner,  who  had  stood  a  silent 
listener.  "  Where'd  she  go  to  ?" 

"  Into  Mrs.  Gregg's,  I  fancy.  This  is  Gregg's 
house  in  here.  She'll  want  to  see  Mrs.  Barry,  I 
suppose,  first  thing." 

But  to  this  remark  Mr.  Cook  merely  replied  by 
the  double  question,  "  Who's  her  friend  in  here  and 
what  time  does  that  big  stage  go  in  ?"  He  referred 
to  an  old  red  stagecoach  that  had  somehow  become 
the  property  of  the  United  States  "  for  which  the 
quartermaster  at  Fort  Russell  was  accountable,"  and 


218  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

which,  behind  a  spanking  four-horse  team,  was 
driven  in  those  days  to  town  every  morning  with 
the  mail  and  the  market  baskets  and  orders  of  the 
various  households  of  the  garrison.  In  addition  it 
carried  such  enlisted  men  or  domestics  as  might 
have  permission  to  go  to  town  in  the  morning. 

"  Don't  know  who  her  friend  is — the  cook,  prob- 
ably. As  for  the  stage,  that  gets  away  about  ten 
or  half-past  ten,"  said  Warner.  "  Why  ?" 

"  Well,  I  want  to  know  if  Miss  O'Meara  attempts 
to  go  with  it ;"  and  Mr.  Cook  spoke  as  though  the 
name  of  the  lady  was  sweet  to  his  tongue.  "  Now, 
let's  go  back  to  the  shed." 

The  shed  referred  to  was  the  rear  portion  of  the 
annex,  which,  thanks  partially  to  the  efforts  of  the 
soldiers  in  one  direction,  but  mainly  to  those  of 
the  wind  in  another,  still  stood,  charred,  blackened, 
but  only  partially  consumed.  The  fire  seemed  to 
have  broken  out  in  the  kitchen,  possibly  about  the 
stove.  The  interior  of  this  tinder-box  was  a  mass 
of  flame  when  Mary  opened  the  dining-room  door, 
and  a  way  for  the  flames  to  flash  in  and  lay  hold  of 
everything  inflammable  there.  Already  they  seemed 
to  have  eaten  their  way  through  the  roof  to  the 
eaves  of  the  main  building,  and  had  attacked  the 
projecting  "dormer"  of  Nathalie's  room.  Then, 
driven  by  the  fury  of  the  gale,  they  had  poured 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  219 

through  the  house,  destroying  all  before  them,  but 
leaving  this  melancholy  wreck  behind.  Only  the 
inner  end  of  it,  that  which  adjoined  the  kitchen,  had 
been  burned,  but  against  that  partition  hung  the 
wardrobes  of  the  two  domestics.  Under  the  gowns 
and  garments  stood  their  boxes — Mary's,  a  modest, 
old-fashioned  little  trunk ;  Bridget's  a  brace  of  Sara- 
togas ;  and  of  these  was  left  little  beyond  charred 
and  water-soaked  fragments. 

And  yet,  so  valuable  did  Mr.  Cook  consider  these 
relics,  that  one  of  the  first  things  he  did  was  to  ask 
that  a  sentry  be  posted  there  with  orders  to  permit 
no  one  to  disturb  anything  about  what  was  left  of 
the  premises,  and  it  was  done  forthwith. 

Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Barry,  kind  soul,  though  very 
weary  and  distressed,  had  been  informed  by  Mrs. 
Kay  that  Bridget  was  in  the  kitchen  and  begging  to 
be  allowed  to  see  her  mistress.  And  it  wasn't  to 
weep  over  her  own  losses  that  Bridget  came,  but  to 
deplore  the  dreadful  danger  and  shock  to  which 
"  Mrs.  Barry,  mum,  and  Miss  Baird,  too,  mum,"  had 
been  subjected.  All  three  ladies  were  greatly  im 
pressed  with  Miss  O'Meara's  expressions  of  sorrow 
and  sympathy.  "  She  never  seemed  to  think  of  her 
own  losses,"  said  Mrs.  Kay  later. 

"  She  was  sure  she  had  banked  the  fire  and  taken 
every  precaution  before  starting  for  town,"  added 
Nathalie. 


220  ^  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

"  She  could  go  down  on  her  knees  to  Mr.  May* 
nard,"  smiled  Mrs.  Barry,  "  for  the  brave,  big,  splen- 
did young  man  that  he  is,  and  wasn't  it  God's  mercy 
he  was  there  ?  And  was  he  so  awfully  burned  as 
they  said  in  town  ?" 

At  this  recital  Nathalie  smiled  not  at  all.  She 
listened  with  trembling  hands  and  averted  face. 
Then  the  news  had  got  to  town,  said  Mrs.  Ray,  after 
the  faithful  cook  had  been  led  away  for  a  mouthful 
of  breakfast  in  the  kitchen.  Why,  surely,  yes  1 
Mrs.  Kay  forgot  the  telegraph  office  at  the  post ; 
and  the  fact  that  the  glare  of  the  fire  could  have 
been  seen  from  Cheyenne,  and  that  the  hose  and 
truck  companies  from  the  great  quartermaster's 
depot  at  Camp  Carlin,  halfwa}T  to  the  town,  had 
started  with  their  heavy  apparatus,  only  to  see  the 
flames  die  away  before  they  had  made  the  first  half- 
mile  over  the  gale-swept  prairie. 

And  then  by  ten  o'clock  the  ladies  of  the  post 
began  flocking  to  the  Rays'  to  inquire  after  Mrs. 
Barry,  and  of  course  Miss  Baird  could  not  be  omit- 
ted then ;  and,  after  the  first  few  clangs  on  the  bell 
had  made  her  patient  start  through  nervousness, 
Mrs.  Ray  had  posted  a  bulletin  on  the  door. 
"  Please  do  not  ring.  Mrs.  Barry  and  Miss  Baird 
are  doing  very  well  and  trying  to  sleep."  The  lit- 
tle doctor  was  striving  to  get  Maynard  into  a  doze. 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE  221 

but  with  no  result.  Anodyne  seemed  to  have  no 
effect.  He  insisted  upon  seeing  Cook  immediately, 
or  Warner  at  least,  and  at  last  they  were  sent  for, 
came,  Miss  Maynard  retired  below  stairs  with 
jealous  pangs  gnawing  at  her  heart,  and  there  was 
a  five-minute  conference,  from  which  Warner  issued 
all  of  a  sudden  with  visible  excitement  in  his  face, 
Cook  following,  imperturbable  as  usual,  and  both 
went  directly  back  to  the  ruins ;  and  there,  reinforced 
by  two  oily-tongued  associates  from  kitchens  down 
the  row,  was  Bridget  vainly  pleading  with  the 
sentry  for  permission  to  drag  out  what  was  left 
of  one  of  her  trunks,  and  she  seemed  desperately 
in  earnest,  so  much  so  that  not  until  Cook  and 
Warner  were  actually  at  the  spot  did  she  discover 
their  coming.  Then  she  suddenly  ceased  and  would 
have  dropped  away,  but  Cook  most  politely  bade 
her  remain. 

"  It's  all  right  that  this  lady  should  be  allowed  to 
touch  her  own  property,  Mr.  Warner,"  said  he. 
"  What  I  asked  of  the  sentry  was,  that  no  one  else 
should  disturb  her  things.  Pray  don't  attempt  to 
pull  that  box  out  yourself,  Mrs. — I  mean  Miss 
O'Meara.  You'll  ruin  your  fine  gloves.  Let  some 
of  the  men,  or  let  me.  I'm  used  to  rough  work — 
even  to  dirty  work  sometimes." 

He  laid  firm  hold  of  the  strap  handle  nearest  him. 


223  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

but  carefully  inspected  the  remains  of  the  trunk  to 
assure  himself  that  the  bottom  and  the  iron  bands 
were  sound.  But  when  he  pulled,  though  ever  so 
gently,  the  sides  seemed  ready  to  come  away. 

"  It's  no  use,  Miss  O'Meara,"  he  said.  "  What 
you  should  have  done  was  to  take  all  your  valuables 
when  you  drove  out  last  night.  You  had  plenty  of 
room  in  the  buggy  for  the  trays  of  both  trunks  in 
your  laps  and  you  only  took  the  one.  It's  too 
bad." 

The  woman  stood  staring  at  him  with  dilated 
eyes.  Her  face  turned  sickly  gray.  The  two  with 
her  gazed  first  at  her,  then  in  stupefaction  at  the 
detective. 

"  What  does  the  man  mane  ?"  asked  one  of  them, 
suddenly  finding  voice.  "  Sure  you  towld  us  you'd 
never  come  back  last  night,  Bridget."  It  was  Mrs. 
Gregg's  Kate  who  spoke,  the  widow  of  an  old 
trooper  who  had  served  and  died  in  the  regiment, 
and  left  her  as  a  legacy  to  his  captain's  family. 
**  Sure,  Mr.  Warner,  the  gentleman's  joking  ?" 

"  Ask  Miss  O'Meara,"  said  Mr.  Cook  blandly. 

"Jokin',"  she  stammered.  "It's  lyin'  —  foul- 
mouthed  lyin'.  Sure  I  never  came  near  the  post  till 
this  blessed  day." 

"  The  gale  blew  away  your  memory,  with  some 
of  your  hair,  Miss  O'Meara,"  said  Cook,  blandly  as 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  393 

ever,  producing-  from  a  coat  pocket  a  coil  of  auburn 
tress,  that  oddly  resembled  those  which  tossed 
about  her  brow.  "  Let  me  refresh  it  by  calling-  to 
mind  a  portion  of  your  conversation  with  Michael 
after  you  found  Mary  wasn't  in  your  room  and  you 
shrewdly  guessed  that  she  was  sleeping  on  the  couch 
in  Mrs.  Barry's.  Therefore  there  was  no  reason 
why  he  shouldn't  come  and  carry  these  things  out 
for  you.  Oh,  it  was  excellently  planned,  Bridget. 
If  vou  had  found  Mary  there  you  could  still  have 
lifted  the  tray  out  and  put  it  in  the  kitchen.  She 
was  so  sound  a  sleeper  she  would  be  sure  to  doze 
right  off  again  as  soon  as  she  saw  you  were  safely 
home.  Then  Michael  could  have  come  and  carried 
it  out  and  you  could  have  crept  into  your  bed  ;  but, 
as  she  wasn't  there,  there  was  nothing  to  prevent 
your  going  back  to  Mike's  and  having  a  fine  time 
with  your  friends  the  rest  of  the  night.  That's 
why  you  went  out  and  had  him  come  into  the 
kitchen  and  gave  him  that  refreshing  swig  from  the 
bottle  in  the  pantry.  Even  that  didn't  involve  you, 
Bridget.  But  you  shouldn't  have  trusted  to  the 
gale  to  drown  everything  you  said.  The  greatest 
mistake  you  made,  Bridget,  was  in  saying  to  Mike, 
'  If  I'd  known  this  it's  the  two-horse  rig  we'd  a 
fetched  with  us,  Mike.  It's  them  that  drove  tha 
best  load  that  ever  rolled  away  from  this  post. ' ' 


224  *  GARRISON  2ANGLB. 

But  there  was  no  need  to  say  more.  Bridget 
O'Meara,  with  horror  in  her  eyes,  was  staring  into 
his  face,  gasping,  clutching  at  her  throat,  and  then 
blindly  reaching  for  support.  So  stupefied  were 
her  friends  that  she  might  have  fallen  for  lack  of 
aid,  but  Cook  and  Warner  seized  each  an  arm  and 
held  her.  When  Jimmy  drove  back  to  town  at  ten- 
forty,  informed  he  was  no  longer  needed,  he  was 
surprised  on  overhauling  the  big  red  stage  to  see 
seated  therein  the  lady  he  drove  to  the  post  at  eight. 
She  had  a  deputy  sheriff  on  either  side  of  her  and 
massive  bracelets  on  her  wrists. 


A  QAER1SON  TANGLE.  225 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

FIVE  days  later  all  the  — th  were  home  again,  and 
great  was  the  rejoicing  at  Russell.  Atherton  had 
directed  Stannard  to  move  in  and  take  possession  of 
the  best  guest  room  under  his  roof.  Barry  had  ap- 
plied for  a  long  leave  of  absence.  "Walters,  with  his 
little  company,  was  relieved  from  duty  at  the  post, 
and  on  its  way  back  to  Fort  Steele,  and  the  last 
thing  Warner  did  before  going  was  to  help  carry 
May n arc!  over  to  the  other  guest  chamber  under 
Atherton's  roof,  where  the  colonel  declared  the  gal- 
lant young  fellow  should  stay  until  perfectly  re- 
stored. The  arrest  never  appeared  on  paper,  never 
became  a  matter  of  record,  for  Walters  had  sup- 
pressed all  further  mention  of  it  within  twenty-four 
hours  of  his  ill-judged  order.  Miss  O'Meara,  lan- 
guishing in  the  county  jail,  had  been  subjected  to 
the  process  known  as  "the  sweat-box,"  an  inter- 
rogatory torture  that  is  supposed  to  compel  the  sus- 
pected malefactor  to  unwittingly  betray  the  secrets 
of  the  gang  to  which  he  may  be  attached,  and 
Bridget  had  broken  down  under  the  pressure. 


226  A  GARRISON  TANGLS. 

As  a  result  of  her  revelation  Cook  had  rushed  for 
Kansas,  and  was  heard  of  no  more  for  several  days, 
and  meantime  there  wasn'ta  woman  at  Russell  who 
did  not  rejoice  in  the  fact  that  she,  at  least,  had 
never  for  an  instant  believed  that  Miss  Baird  had 
anything  to  do  with  the  persons  guilty  of  the 
burglary.  Some  of  the  ladies  repeatedly  said  as 
much,  notably  Mrs.  Turner  and  Mrs.  Raymond. 
Walters  had  also  had  to  call,  poor  fellow,  and  tell 
Mrs.  Barry  and  Miss  Baird  how  unhappy  he  was 
over  having  ever  believed  that  story  of  the  latter's 
knowledge  of  the  burglary,  but  in  justice  to  himself 
he  must  say  that  not  only  did  the  sheriff  admonish 
him  that  such  was  his  duty,  but  there  were  even 
two  ladies  at  the  post  who  similarly  advised  him. 
Neither  Mrs.  Barry  nor  Miss  Baird  would  ask  the 
question,  but  Major  Barry  did,  and  demanded  an  an- 
swer, and  then  "Walters  named  Mrs.  Turner  and 
Miss  Maynard,  both  of  whom,  as  it  subsequently 
transpired,  had  been  actuated  only  by  the  purest 
and  best  of  motives  and  with  no  thought  of  malice. 
All  they  said  was  that  they  feared  she  was  being 
terrorized  by  some  scoundrel  who  had  a  hold  on 
her,  and  all  they  hoped  was  to  relieve  her  from  such 
a  horror.  Of  course,  if  she  had  dreamed  the  captain 
would  e^er  quote  her  or  take  such  steps  as  he  had 
done,  nothing,  said  Mrs.  Turner,  could  ever  have  in- 
duced her  to  open  her  lips. 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  227 

As  for  Miss  Maynard,  she  was  in  a  state  bordering 
on  nervous  prostration,  yet  she  would  allow  no  one 
else  to  take  her  place  at  Ronald's  side.  She  and  she 
alone  should  nurse  and  care  for  him,  and  there  were 
indeed  several  days  in  which  his  sufferings  were 
such  he  was  allowed  to  see  no  visitor.  Then  he 
began  to  mend,  and  Barry  had  come  and  bent  over 
him,  with  a  world  of  gratitude  and  affection  in  his 
speaking  eyes,  and  Barry  said  that  he  expected  to 
got  away  within  the  week,  but  that  his  wife  declared 
that  she  would  not  go  until  she  and  Nathalie  could 
see  and  thank  him  in  person,  and  Grace  Maynard 
had  to  listen  to  it  all. 

But  two  days  later,  the  Barrys'  drove  to  the  sta- 
tion, all  the  officers  and  more  than  half  the  women 
accompanying  them  to  the  train  and  seeing  them 
off  with  every  manifestation  of  affection.  The 
doctors  had  said  that  it  was  necessary  for  Mrs. 
Barry's  health,  that  she  should  be  taken  away  from 
Russell  as  soon  as  possible.  It  was  interesting  to 
watch  the  different  women  in  their  good-by  to  Miss 
Baird,  without  whom  Mrs.  Barry  went  nowhere 
now.  Mrs.  Freeman  clung  to  her,  kissed  her  on 
both  cheeks,  almost  cried  over  her.  So  did  Mrs. 
Ray.  Mrs.  Truscott,  too,  was  demonstrative.  Mrs. 
Stannard  was  the  last  to  leave  her,  and  the  eyes  of 
both  were  brimming  as  at  last  she  had  to  hurry 


228  -4  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

from  the  car.  All  the  other  women,  young  and  old, 
were  gentle  and  sympathetic  in  manner  to  her. 
Miss  Maynard,  of  course,  was  still  at  her  brother's 
bedside.  Mrs.  Turner,  who  rarely  missed  an  occa- 
sion of  the  kind,  had  a  splitting  headache  this  day 
of  days,  and  therefore  was  unable  to  come  at  all 
It  was  the  Barrys'  plan  to  go  to  the  South  for  com- 
plete change  and  rest,  both  for  Mrs.  Barry  and  Ka< 
thalie,  and  then  to  spend  July  and  August  at  the 
seashore.  The  insurance  adjusters  had  come  and 
gone ;  the  fire  losses  were  being  settled.  Fort  Rus- 
sell  had  found  out  to  its  entire  satisfaction  that  the 
burglaries  were  fixed  on  a  gang,  of  which  Miss  Baird 
could  have  had  no  knowledge  whatever,  despite  the 
accepted  fact  that  she  had  some  suspicious  acquaint- 
ance. One  reason,  indeed,  that  the  Barrys  hurried 
was  her  continued  ill  health.  When  Doctor  Pease 
heard  all  that  Mrs.  Barry  had  to  tell  him  on  his  re- 
turn, and  had  felt  Nathalie's  pulse  and  looked  into 
her  sad  eyes,  he  hummed  and  hawed  and  blinked, 
and  made  some  inquiries  of  Mrs.  Stannard,  and 
finally  told  both  Major  and  Mrs.  Barry,  that  they 
could  not  too  soon  get  the  girl  away  from  Russell, 
She  was  simply  dying  by  inches  there  and  needed 
immediate  change.  Most  affectionate  and  gratoful 
was  the  letter  Mrs.  Barry  penned  to  the  young 
officer,  still  lying  half  blind  and  more  than  half 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  229 

bandaged  up  at  the  colonel's.  Most  grateful  and 
timid  and  shy  was  the  little  note  penned  by  Nathalie 
to  the  same  recumbent  warrior.  She  would  always 
pray  for  his  happiness  and  never  forget  the  heroism 
to  which  she  owed  her  life,  but  it  took  her  hours  to 
get  that  letter  into  semi-satisfactory  shape,  and  who 
knows  how  fast  and  hard  the  tears  fell  as  she  wrote  ? 
They  were  entrusted  —  both  the  notes  —  to  Mrs. 
Stannard's  care,  that  she  herself,  said  Mrs.  Barry, 
might  read  them  to  him,  and  not  Miss  Maynard  ; 
for  against  that  Spartan  sister  Mrs.  Barry's  heart 
was  set.  The  proposed  visit  to  Eonald's  bedside 
had  to  be  abandoned.  Mrs.  Barry  could  not  well  be 
carried  up  the  stairs  for  a  formal  call,  and  Nathalie 
could  not  well  go  without  her.  "  But  remember," 
Mrs.  Barry  had  written,  "  we  shall  be  at  Sea  Girt 
for  July  and  August ;  shall  have  our  own  cottage 
there,  and  you  are  to  have  two  months'  leave,  and 
you're  to  spend  every  possible  week  of  it  with  us." 
Not  until  well  on  their  way  to  Chicago — the  first 
objective  point,  because  both  ladies  had  to  renew 
their  wardrobes — was  Mrs.  Barry  informed  that 
there  might  be  difficulty  as  to  that  part  of  the  plan. 
She  was  holding  Nathalie's  hand  and  saying  how 
lovely  it  would  be  to  have  their  brave,  big  boy 
there  to  be  nursed  and  petted  until  all  trace  of  his 
burns  was  swept  away,  and  Nathalie  falteringljr 
said: 


230  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

"  But  there  is  somebody  else  who  is  awaiting  his 
coming  and  expecting  to  do  all  this";"  whereat  Mrs. 
Barry  turned  with  prompt,  even  indignant,  denial 
in  her  eyes  and  said  : 

"  He  never  told  you  so/' 

"No,  but  his  sister  did.  It — it  is  quite  an  old 
affair." 

"  What  did  his  sister  tell  you  ?    Who  is  it  ?" 

"  That  he  was  in  love  with — engaged  to — a  Miss 
Gertrude  Bonner,  at  their  home." 

"Nathalie,  that  woman  has  told  another  lie!" 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Barry ;  and  the  major,  coming  in 
from  the  smoking  compartment  at  the  moment, 
marveled  at  the  sudden  fire  in  the  soft  eyes  of  his 
beloved  wife  and  at  the  flush  of  color  in  her  usually 
pallid  face.  Only  deep  conviction  and  wrath  as 
deep  could  prompt  her  to  the  use  of  language  so 
forcible. 

They  were  in  Chicago  an  entire  week,  joined  at 
once  by  Mrs.  Atherton  and  piloted  by  that  expe- 
rienced and  accomplished  shopper,  and  then  came  a 
deluge  of  letters  from  Russell,  and  news,  such  news. 
Two  men  had  been  run  down  and  arrested  in  Kan- 
sas City,  had  been  brought  back  to  Cheyenne  and 
promptly  recognized  as  the  "  toughs  "  engaged  in 
the  cutting  affray  at  the  Empire  wherein  "  Boston" 
was  placed  on  the  invalid  list ;  were  also  recognized 


A  GARRISON  TANOLK.  231 

as  the  two  who  were  seen  at  the  Railroad  House 
early  on  the  morning  following  the  robbery.  Miss 
O'Meara's  cousin,  Michael  Dungan,  who  kept  a 
saloon  frequented  ordinarily  by  laborers  and 
machine-shop  men  employed  in  the  railway  yards, 
had  likewise  been  gathered  in  by  the  police,  but 
only  a  little  of  the  stolen  property  had  been  recov- 
ered. Cook  and  Maynard  were  dividing  the  honors 
of  the  capture.  "  Cook,  of  course,"  said  the  major 
at  once,  "  but  why  Maynard  ?"  And  not  until  he 
came  to  Mrs.  Stannard's  letter  was  all  explained. 
Cook  had  had  certain  undefined  suspicions,  but 
could  do  nothing — prove  nothing  until  the  brief  in- 
terview with  Maynard. 

This  was  Majrnard's  part  of  it.  He  sat  up  late 
that  blustering  night  writing  long  letters  to  his 
father  explaining  his  conduct  in  refusing  to  betray 
Nathalie  Baird,  telling  him  of  his  deep  love  for  her, 
his  faith  in  her  innocence,  and  all  that  had  come  of 
it.  lie  hoped  for  his  father's  approval  of  his  con- 
duct, despite  the  stigma  of  arrest,  and  he  begged 
him  not  to  be  prejudiced  against  the  girl  whom  he 
so  devotedly  loved,  by  anything  Grace  might  say. 
All  that  could  be  explained.  lie  wrote  to  Atherton 
and  to  his  captain,  and  by  that  time  it  was  one 
o'clock,  and  he  felt  weary  and  hungry.  He  had 
eaten  hardly  a  mouthful  since  his  arrest  and  was 


232  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

suffering  the  consequence.  He  had  of  late  availed 
himself  of  Mrs.  Stannard's  repeated  invitation  to 
help  himself,  and  had  gone  down  to  get  a  glass  of 
milk  or  a  crust  of  bread,  and  so,  taking  his  candle, 
he  softly  descended  the  stairs,  his  slippered  feet 
making  no  noise  ;  let  himself  out  into  the  draughty 
kitchen  and  attacked  the  refrigerator,  setting  his 
candle,  meantime,  well  back  upon  the  kitchen  table. 
His  appetite  soon  satisfied,  he  was  about  to  retire, 
when  through  the  thin  board  partition  separating 
Mrs.  Stannard's  kitchen  from  Mrs.  Barry's,  he  heard 
the  sound  of  a  key  rasping  in  a  rusty  lock,  and  sud- 
denly there  came  a  rush  of  wind  through  every 
crack  and  knothole.  His  candle  was  instantly  ex- 
tinguished, and  some  one  seemed  almost  blown  into 
that  neighboring  room.  He  heard  Bridget's  voice, 
low  and  cautious,  but  objurgatory.  He  was  grop- 
ing for  his  candle,  intending  to  retrace  his  steps, 
when  a  moment  later  that  door  was  closed  ;  the 
rush  of  the  wind  ceased,  and  Bridget  struck  a  light, 
tiptoed  to  her  bedroom,  and  almost  instantly 
hastened  back,  reopened  the  door,  called  "  Mike  " 
in  cautious  tone,  admitted  some  masculine  stranger, 
and  said,  "  What  luck !  She's  sleeping  wid  the 
missus.  We  can  load  the  things  right  in  now,  and 
I'll  go  back  wid  ye.  Shure,  they'll  never  dream  I 
was  here." 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  233 

And  then  it  all  flashed  over  him.  The  disappear- 
ance of  Bridget  the  day  of  his  visit  to  the  Barrys', 
the  swinging  portiere,  the  apparent  determination 
of  the  domestic  in  question  to  avoid  his  sight,  the 
probable  attempt  on  her  part  to  lurk  in  hiding  in 
Barry's  den  and  listen  to  his  plan  or  suspicions,  if 
any  plan  he  had.  And  now  her  coming  in  after 
one  at  night,  with  a  strange  man,  and  talking  of 
loading  the  things  right  in  and  going  back  with 
him  and  no  one  dreaming  of  her  being  there.  His 
heart  hammered  violently.  Three  hours  before  he 
had  cudgeled  his  brains  in  vain  for  a  clue  to  the 
robbery,  and  here  it  came,  all  at  once,  unlocked  for, 
unbidden. 

At  first  he  thought  stolen  property  was  meant 
when  she  spoke  of  loading  up  the  things,  but  then 
he  remembered  how  thorough  a  search  was  made 
in  that  room,  and  it  seemed  improbable.  He  peered 
through  a  knothole  and  got  a  glimpse  of  the 
stranger's  face,  but  it  was  one  he  had  never  seen 
before.  She  lugged  the  tray  of  a  trunk  to  the 
kitchen  table  and  loaded  it  with  finery.  She  gave 
her  friend  a  comforting  dram  from  the  bottle  in  the 
closet  and  did  not  disdain  a  sip  on  her  own  account. 
She  rejoiced  that  they  could  go  back  together  and 
finish  the  frolic  of  the  night,  as  she  said,  just  as 
Cook  later  confounded  her  by  quoting — "  If  I'd 


234  -4  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

known  this  it's  the  two-horse  rig  we'd  have  fetched 
wid  us,  Mike.  It's  them  that  drew  the  best  load 
that  was  ever  rolled  away  from  this  post."  She  was 
for  loading  up  another  tray.  She  excitedly  argued 
with  Mike  on  the  subject.  The  young  lieutenant 
suspicioned  somebody,  she  said.  She'd  heard  him 
say  so,  and  it  wasn't  Boston,  bad  scran  to  him,  much 
as  she  wished  they  could  make  it  so  appear.  She 
wished  to  get  her  valuables  under  Mike's  roof  be- 
fore anything  was  discovered,  in  case  she  had  to 
skip.  But  Mike  said  they  had  all  they  could 
possibly  carry  in  that  gale ;  to  come  along  now  and 
he'd  take  the  next  load  when  he  brought  her  back 
in  the  morning.  And  so  Mike  lighted  his  cigar  and 
hurled  away  the  match,  and  the  precious  pair  went 
forth  into  the  night,  leaving  Maynard  to  plan  what 
should  be  their  reception  on  their  return.  The  entire 
visit  occupied  not  more  than  ten  or  fifteen  minutes. 
By  a  quarter-past  one  Maynard  was  back  in  his 
room,  trembling  a  bit  with  excitement  and  joy,  and, 
reseating  himself  at  his  desk,  he  was  making  a  mem- 
orandum of  Bridget's  words  and  the  stranger's 
appearance,  when  startled  by  Mary's  awful  cry  on 
the  lower  floor  of  the  house  adjoining. 

Maynard's  discoveries  had  been  supplemented  by 
those  of  Cook.  The  burglars  had  been  admitted 
into  the  house,  doubtless  by  Bridget,  and  by  way  of 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  335 

the  kitchen.  The  window  was  left  open  and  the 
latch  had  been  snapped  off  to  give  the  other  im- 
pression, but  Cook's  keen  eyes  had  detected  the 
fraud.  No  chisel,  no  implement  had  been  inserted 
from  without,  for  the  cotton  stuffing  showed  no 
signs  of  it  whatever,  as  it  infallibly  would  have 
done  had  the  window  been  forced.  Bridget  had 
unquestionably  brought  about  the  heavy,  stupor-like 
sleep  of  her  mistress.  When  Mary  came  that  even- 
ing for  the  glass  of  fresh  spring  water  which  Mrs. 
Barry  always  had  at  her  bedside,  as  well  as  to  renew 
the  water  in  which  her  medicines  were  dissolved, 
Bridget,  as  she  well  remembered,  had  the  pitcher 
ready.  It  was  easy  for  the  latter  to  have  slipped 
in  one  of  the  glasses  a  tablet  or  two  of  colorless 
morphia.  Its  faintly  bitter  taste  was  neutralized  by 
that  of  the  medicine  itself,  but  that  could  not 
destroy  the  effect.  Indeed,  among  the  unconsumed 
effects  at  the  bottom  of  one  of  Bridget's  Saratogas, 
was  found  a  little  vial  containing  some  half  a 
dozen  cube-like  tablets  which  Dr.  Pease  promptly 
declared  to  be  morphia. 

Mrs.  Stannard  had  still  more  to  tell.  Captain 
Gregg  had  gone  to  Kansas  City  to  see  some  pre- 
sumably stolen  property  that  had  been  captured 
there  by  the  police,  and  was  believed  to  be  part  of 
the  Fort  Russell  plunder,  and  from  there  he  tele- 


236  A  GARRISON  TANGLE 

graphed  that  the  first  thing  shown  him  was  Mrs. 
Freeman's  watch,  injured.  Mrs.  Gregg's  was  found 
at  another  pawn-shop,  but  the  rings,  pins  and  other 
costly  jimcracks  were  Ftill  missing.  Dungan's  place 
in  town  had  been  ransacked,  but  to  no  purpose. 
The  silver  had  probably  been  broken  up  before  this. 
Mr.  Cook  had  come  to  talk  with  her  major  about 
the  business.  Cook  believed  those  two  close- 
mouthed  parties  whom  he  had  arrested  were  mem- 
bers of  some  gang  of  professionals  who  had  been 
compelled  to  leave  their  favorite  fields  of  operation 
in  the  distant  East,  and  were  merely  keeping  their 
hand  in  here  on  the  far  frontier.  Their  only  hold 
on  Bridget  was  through  her  putative  cousin,  Mike, 
a  bad  character  at  best,  though  not  a  "  cracksman." 
Her  letters  from  good  families  in  St.  Louis,  which 
she  had  so  confidently  exhibited  to  Mrs.  Barry  in 
response  to  the  advertisement  for  a  cook,  proved  to 
be  forgeries,  but  also  pointed  to  the  probability  of 
her  being  familiar  with  names,  localities,  etc.,  in 
that  city.  So  that  was  where  the  police  were  now 
working.  Meanwhile  Bridget,  Mike,  and  the  silent 
pair  brought  back  from  the  border  land  of  Missouri, 
were  languishing  behind  the  bars.  Further  proof 
was  needed. 

But  nothing  yet  had  been  seen  or  heard  of  "  Bos- 
ton."    If  they  could  find  him,  Mr.  Cook  said,  they 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  237 

stood  a  big  chance  of  learning  who  the  others  were. 
They  were  doubtless  wanted  in  more  places  than 
one,  and  a  goodly  reward  might  possibly  be  paid. 
Mrs.  Barry  did  not  show  this  part  of  the  letter  to 
Nathalie,  nor  did  she  read  it.  The  girl  shrank  at 
any  mention  of  the  fellow,  and  yet  had  assured  her 
friend  that  she  had  no  idea  whatever  whither  he 
had  fled,  or  where  he  was  now  in  hiding,  and  that 
was  enough  for  Mrs.  Barry. 

But  there  was  a  part  of  the  long,  long  letter  Mrs. 
Barry  did  read,  and  her  gentle  eyes  more  than  once 
glanced  up  from  the  page  and  sought  the  flushing 
face  beside  her. 

"  Mr.  Maynard  improves  rapidly  now  and  picks 
up  every  day.  The  doctors  say  his  eyesight  will  be 
restored  all  right,  and  that  he  will  soon  be  quite 
well  again,  but  he  was  badly  and  painfully  burned 
for  all  that,  and  has  suffered  as  keenly  as  he  has 
uncomplainingly.  Miss  Maynard  is  still  on  guard 
over  him,  and  some  people  are  inconsiderate  enough 
to  say  that  they  think  that  the  way  she  watches 
every  word  and  motion  of  his  callers,  and  strives  to 
forestall  his  replies,  is  getting  decidedly  tiresome. 
They  wish  they  didn't  have  to  see  Mr.  Maynard 
through  his  sister.  Colonel  Atherton  has  been 
called  to  department  headquarters  for  consultation, 
and  will  doubtless  go  thence  to  Chicago  to  join 


238  -4  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

Mrs.  Atherton,  so  you  will  probably  see  him  before 
you  go  South.  Major  Stannard  is  in  command 
meanwhile,  and,  as  we  are  now  under  the  same 
roof,  we  see  more  of  the  Maynards  than  anybody 
else,  and  Luce  (her  major)  says  he  believes  Maynard 
would  be  all  right  in  a  few  days  if  '  that  old  maid 
sister  of  his  would  only  clear  out  and  go  home,'  but 
Luce  always  has  something  hateful  to  say  of  old 
maids." 

"  She  is  always  downstairs  when  the  orderly 
comes  with  the  letters.  She  always  reads  over  the 
address  of  those  for  her  brother,  and  only  through 
her  do  his  letters  reach  him.  Luce  snorts  angrily 
and  *  says  things',  more  than  I  like  to  tell  you.  He 
thinks  she  would  even  assume  control  of  her 
brother's  correspondence,  and  that  she  doesn't  at  all 
like  it  now  that  he  is  permitted  to  read  his  own 
letters.  This  morning  Mr.  Maynard  said  to  me : 
*  The  doctor  tells  me  that  to-morrow  I  may  use  my 
hand  a  little,  and  the  first  thing  I  do  will  be  to 
write  Mrs.  Barry  to  thank  her  and  Miss  Baird  for 
the  lovely  letters  they  wrote  me,'  whereupon  Miss 
Maynard  instantly  spoke  up.  '  Why,  Konald,  I'd 
be  only  too  glad  to  write  for  you  any  time,'  but  he 
as  promptly  said  these  were  matters  that  he  pre- 
ferred not  to  delegate,  and  I  could  easily  see  that 
she  was  much  nettled.  So  you  will  be  getting 
loiters  in  a  dayjpr  two  " 


A  GARRISON  T ANGLE.  339 

And  they  did.  Mrs.  Barry's  was  a  short,  pain- 
fully written,  three-page  missive,  but  it  delighted 
her  greatly,  and  she  wished  to  read  it  at  once  to 
Nathalie,  but  the  girl  had  vanished.  "  Gone  to 
read  her  own  letter  in  her  own  room,"  said  Mrs. 
Barry,  with  a  smile  that  spoke  volumes  of  hope  and 
sympathy  and  interest,  and  she  would  allow  no  dis- 
turbance of  the  supposed  maiden  meditation  for  full 
two  hours.  Then  as  Nathalie  returned  not,  Mrs. 
Barry  became  anxious,  and  tapped  at  the  communi- 
cating door. 

They  were  to  start  for  the  South  that  very  night. 
The  trunks  had  been  packed,  and  many  prepara- 
tions made  in  the  morning,  but  much  remained  to 
be  done,  yet  there  sat  Nathalie  at  her  open  window, 
gazing  afar  out  over  the  dancing,  sparkling  waters 
of  the  lake,  her  eyes  brimming  with  tears. 

"Mayn't  I  know  what  he  had  to  say  to  my 
Nathalie  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Barry,  her  tones  full  of  fond 
interest,  her  fragile  white  hand  placed  caressingly 
on  the  bonny  head. 

For  answer  the  girl  took  the  hand  in  both  her 
own  and  buried  her  face  upon  it.  It  was  some  little 
time  before  she  could  trust  herself  to  speak,  but 
first  she  made  her  friend  take  "an  easy-chair,  while 
she  herself  once  more  knelt  in  the  old  confiding 
way,  buried  her  head  in  Mrs.  Barry's  lap,  and  then 


240  4  GARRISON  TANGLE 

placed  in  her  hand  the  little  letter  with  the  well- 
known  Cheyenne  postmark. 

"  Am  I  to  read  it,  Nathalie  ?"  was  the  question. 

"  Yes." 

Slowly  Mrs.  Barry  opened  the  carefully  written 
pages.  Every  word  and  line  seemed  eloquent  of 
the  pain  and  difficulty  with  which  it  was  penned ; 
but  there  was  no  halting,  no  stumbling,  no  hesitat- 
ing in  what  he  had  to  say.  A  more  outspoken, 
manly,  straightforward  appeal  Mrs.  Barry  had 
never  read. 

"  MY  DEAR  Miss  BAIRD  :  I  thank  you  for  all  you  say 
in  your  letter.  It  was  a  sad  disappointment  to  me 
that  I  could  not  see  you  and  dear  Mrs.  Barry  be- 
fore you  left,  but  the  doctor  says  I  might  not  have 
been  able  to  see  even  could  you  have  come. 

"Nor  could  I  have  said  perhaps  what  I  must  say 
now — that  1  love  you  with  all  my  heart  and  soul, 
and  that  I  long  to  hear  from  you  that  I  may  hope 
very  soon  you  will  be  my  wife. 

"  Nathalie,  in  these  precious  lines  you  write  me 
you  speak  of  honor  and  gratitude,  and  tell  me  you 
will  always  pray  for  my  happiness.  I  pray  for 
more.  I  do  not  want  your  gratitude.  I  beg  you  in 
your  answer  to  forget  that  night  and  never  again 
to  speak  of  me  as  the  savior  of  your  life.  I  prize 
your  honor,  but  I  crave  your  love.  And  as  for 
nappiness,  you  and  you  alone  can  give  it.  They 
tell  me  you  go  South  within  a  very  few  days.  Be- 
fore you  start  may  I  not  have  the  answer  I  hope  for 
— pray  for — long  for  ? 

"  Devotedly  yours, 

MAYNAKE." 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  241 

Twice  did  Airs.  Barry  read  this  over,  one  hand 
straying  as  she  did  so  over  the  beautiful  bowed 
head.  Then,  laying  the  letter  on  the  dressing  table, 
she  bent  low  over  the  little  pink  ear  that  peeped 
through  the  rippling  strands  of  bright  golden  hair. 

"And  the  answer,  Nathalie?"  she  whispered. 
"  I  am  sure  there  can  be  only  one." 

No  reply. 

"  You  have  answered,  haven't  you  ?  You  know 
we  go  so  soon." 

"  I  had  to — yes." 

"  And  it  was — yes?     Nathalie,  I'm  so  glad " 

"  Mrs.  Barry — Mrs.  Barry  ! "  was  the  reply,  as 
the  girl  burst  into  a  passion  of  tears.  "  How  could 
it  be  yes?  Have  you  forgotten  her — his  sweet- 
heart?— his  promised  wife  at  home?  Have  you 
forgotten — my  shame  and  misery  ?  Have  you 
forgotten — him  ?  No !"  she  cried,  springing  to  her 
feet,  her  arms  uplifted,  her  head  thrown  wildly 
back.  "  Xo  !  With  that  horror  hanging  over  me  I 
am  fit  to  be  no  man's  wife,  and  my  answer  was  JVof" 
Then  face  forward  she  threw  herself  upon  the  bed, 
sobbing  in  utter  desolation  of  spirit. 

Two  days  later  that  answer  was  in  his  hands,  and 
when,  in  bitter  disappointment,  stunned  and  sorrow- 
ing, he  would  have  turned  to  Grace  as  though  for 
explanation,  she  had  left  the  house.  She,  too,  had 
received  a  letter  that  filled  her  with  dismay. 


242  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 


CHAPTER'  XVII. 

CONTRARY  to  explanation,  Ronald  Maynard  did 
not  apply  for  leave  of  absence  when  once  more  fully 
able  to  move  about.  Miss  Maynard  had  gone  at 
last,  a  peremptory  summons  from  her  father  being 
given  as  the  cause,  he  needing  her  services  and  re- 
ceiving benefit  from  them  far  more  than  did  his  son. 
Colonel  and  Mrs.  Atherton  were  home  from  Chi- 
cago, and  regimental  work  went  briskly  on.  Four 
troops  had  been  warned  for  duty  in  the  Big-  Horn 
country  and  were  packing  for  the  start.  Major  and 
Mrs.  Stannard  were  still  the  guests  of  the  Athertons, 
but,  insurance  matters  being  settled,  Mrs.  Stannard 
was  soon  to  depart  for  the  East  to  replenish  her 
wardrobe.  Everybody  in  the  — th,  from  colonel 
down  to  the  children,  was  making  very  much  of 
Maynard,  or  would  have  done  so  but  for  the  pro- 
found sadness  and  melancholy  that  seemed  to  op- 
press him.  He  was  able  to  ride  every  day.  He 
went  about  his  drills  and  duties,  but  he  could  not  be 
coaxed  to  the  hops  and  dances  and  concerts.  His 
father  was  very  ill,  he  said,  and  failing  so  fast  that 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  243 

he,  Ronald,  could  take  no  part  in  garrison  gayeties. 
He  went  to  Dana,  whose  troop  was  to  go  to  the 
field,  and  offered  to  exchange  with  him,  but  Dana 
loved  field  duty  and  would  none  of  it.  The  Barrys, 
with  Miss  Baird,  had  journeyed  down  the  Mississippi 
and  over  to  Havana,  and  were  now  resting  among 
the  pines  of  Southern  Alabama,  and,  except  by  Mrs. 
Gregg,  the  famous  night  of  burglaries  was  rarely 
mentioned  in  the  press  of  other  topics  of  more  re- 
cent interest,  when  one  evening  new  impetus  was 
given  to  the  whole  matter  by  the  tidings  that  a 
famous  thief  catcher  had  come  out  from  the  East 
armed  with  requisitions  for  the  silent  pair  of  pro- 
fessionals in  jail,  whom  he  recognized,  by  the  descrip- 
tions sent  to  the  police  of  the  big  cities,  as  promi- 
nent members  of  a  gang  that  despoiled  a  great 
metropolitan  bank  two  years  before.  If  discharged 
for  lack  of  evidence  in  Wyoming,  they  would  be 
instantly  rearrested  on  this  other  charge. 

But  Bridget,  said  the  great  man,  was  not  one  of 
the  original  gang.  She  was  a  "Western  product,  an 
exile  from  St.  Louis,  whither  Dungan's  trail  had 
been  followed  back  and  his  police  record  thoroughly 
examined.  Mike  and  his  cousin,  however,  proved 
game  too  small  for  a  hunter  of  the  New  York  man's 
caliber.  They  were  merely  the  catspaws.  The  case 
was  to  come  up  for  trial  within  the  week,  but  with 


244  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

the  morrow's  sun  there  was  excitement  in  good 
earnest  in  the  prairie  city.  With  the  ease  of  long 
habit  the  experts  had  sawed  their  selfish  way  out  of 
jail,  leaving  Mike  and  Bridget  to  rage  at  their  de- 
fection, and  to  bear  alone  the  odium  of  their  crime. 
To  the  wrath  of  the  Eastern  official  and  the  stupe- 
faction of  the  sheriff,  the  birds  had  flown,  and  left 
no  trace  behind. 

But  now  Bridget  began  to  give  tongue,  and  a 
sharp  one  it  proved  to  be.  Hitherto  some  fear  or 
favor  had  made  her  dumb  as  to  the  antecedents  of 
the  pair  and  the  circumstances  that  drew  them  to- 
gether. Now,  it  seems,  that  having  considerable 
negotiable  booty  stored  away,  the  two  had  pledged 
their  knightly  word  to  Bridget  that  they  would  de- 
fray all  expenses  of  her  defense  and  Mike's  if  they 
would  but  stoutly  deny  all  previous  knowledge  of 
them,  and  this  they  had  done,  claiming  to  know 
them  only  as  gentlemen  who  visited  Mike's  saloon 
and  were  most  liberal  with  their  money.  Then,  it 
transpired  that  one  of  them  had  paid  Miss  O'Meara 
flattering  attentions — attentions  that  turned  her 
head  and  brought  her  thrice  in  one  week  in  town, 
decked  in  finery  that  had  seen  better  days,  and 
wearers,  in  St.  Louis.  To  him,  in  answer  to  ques- 
tion, she  told  all  she  knew  concerning  the  valuables 
of  the  garrison.  The  officers  and  men  were  all 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  245 

away.  Why  should  not  the  cracksmen  turn  an. 
honest  penny  at  their  old  craft  instead  of  ruotiug 
here  while  the  big  cities  were  being  searched  for 
them  ?  Bridget  made  a  clean  breast  of  it,  now  that 
she  had  found  her  own  case  hopeless ;  while  the 
prime  movers,  the  tempters,  the  only  ones  who  had 
profited  a  penny's  worth  by  the  robberies,  had  got 
off  scot  free.  "  'Twas  them  that  persuaded  her, 
through  false  promises  and  flattery,  to  '  dope '  both 
Mrs.  JBany  and  Mary,"  to  let  them  in  at  the  kitchen 
door,  and  to  profess  utter  ignorance  of  the  crime. 
They  were  then  to  share  alike  after  the  sale  of  the 
booty,  but  all  she  and  Mike  had  got  as  their  share 
was  the  jail,  with  the  penitentiary  ahead. 

Again  did  Cook  and  the  sheriff  eagerly  ask  the 
same  question,  "But  how  about  Boston  ?"  And  this 
was  something  she  could  not  answer,  nor  could 
Mike.  All  either  could  say  was  that,  after  the  row 
at  the  Empire,  Boston  was  brought  in  a  hack  to 
Mike's  place,  where  he  had  been  a  frequent  visitor 
for  some  little  time  previous,  and  Mike  hid  him  away 
in  the  back  room  of  a  wing  of  his  house,  and  there, 
too,  under  his  roof,  were  temporarily  secreted  these 
same  fellows  who  later  were  so  silent  about  them- 
selves, but  so  dangerous  meantime  to  Boston,  to 
Mike  and  to  Bridget.  'Twas  Mike  got  Maloney  to  go 
out  to  the  fort  for  the  young  lady  of  whom  Boston 


046  A  GARRISON  TANQLE. 

bragged  he  could  get  money — for  somebody  had  to 
come  in  and  pay  for  his  lodging  and  keep — and  the 
poor  girl  had  indeed  come  and  had  raised  the  money 
for  him,  and  if  Mike  hadn't  taken  care  of  it  for  Bos- 
ton the  others  would  have  got  it,  for  Bridget  heard 
them  u  abusing  him  fearful."  The  moment  he  was 
well  enough  to  move,  Boston  had  slipped  away,  and 
that  was  the  last  seen  of  him.  But  meantime  the 
burglary  had  taken  place,  and  then  the  fire,  and 
Bridget's  downfall  was  complete. 

All  this,  of  course,  was  duly  carried  to  Atherton, 
who  was  an  interested  listener,  and  all  this  did  May- 
nard  learn  direct  from  Cook,  for  the  question  of  the 
identity  of  Boston  and  his  relation  to  Nathalie 
Baird  had  become  vital  in  Maynard's  eyes.  Through 
him  in  great  measure  had  the  girl  he  loved  been 
cleared  of  all  suspicion  of  complicity  in  or  knowl- 
edge of  the  burglaries.  Through  him,  God  willing 
and  helping,  she  should  be  shown  to  the  men  and 
women  of  that  garrison,  especially  the  women,  and 
more  especially  Mrs.  Turner  and  Mrs.  Raymond,  as 
one  so  pure  and  good  and  noble  that  no  one  of  their 
number  could  ever  again  think  ill  of  her,  and  to  do 
this  he  must  solve  the  problem  of  her  strange  rela- 
tionship to  that  unprepossessing  stranger. 

For  Nathalie's  letter  had  well  nigh  made  him 
desperate.  It  was  brevity  itself.  It  was  almost 


A  GARRISON  TAN  OLE.  247 

bitter  in  its  hopelessness.  "  Even  had  you  no  ties 
of  your  own,"  she  wrote,  "  I  have  been — and  for  all 
I  know  may  still  be — so  bound  that  the  cruelest 
suspicions  have  attached  to  me,  and,  though  you  are 
generous,  magnanimous,  and  make  no  allusion  to 
this,  I  know  you  know  it,  and  I  can  be  wife  to  no 
man." 

What  she  meant  by  ties  of  his  own,  other  than 
those  that  drew  him  to  the  father  and  sister  at  home, 
he  did  not  understand.  Never  for  a  moment  did  he 
dream  that  Grace  had  gone  so  far  as  to  make 
Nathalie  believe  that  there  was  a  Jove  affair — an 
engagement  with  some  girl  whom  he  had  known 
long  before  his  meeting  with  her.  "What  must  be 
done  was  to  find  that  man  Boston  if  alive,  or  the 
proofs  of  it  if  he  were  dead,  and  on  this  matter  he 
talked  long  and  eagerly  with  Cook,  who  could  give 
little  encouragement. 

"  If  Miss  Baird  has  no  idea  what  has  become  of 
him  I'm  sure  I  haven't,"  said  the  man  from  Denver, 
with  cold-blooded,  matter-of-fact  and  professional 
bluntness.  "You  dropped  on  to  a  mighty  good 
piece  of  evidence  by  a  streak  of  very  good  luck, 
Mr.  Maynard.  Perhaps  your  luck  will  hold  out 
still  longer.  I  hope  it  may." 

All  the  same  he  thought  it  wouldn't,  and  was 
willing  to  bet;  for  Cook  had  his  weaknesses  as  well 


248  ^  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

as  other  men.  If  he  couldn't  find  Boston  how 
would  a  stripling  lieutenant  be  able  to  ? 

June  came  and  with  it  a  summons  that  Maynard 
could  not  but  have  expected,  yet  that  grieved  him 
sorely.  "  Come  at  once.  Failing  fast,"  were  the 
brief  words  of  his  sister's  dispatch,  and  Atherton 
kindly  laid  his  hand  upon  the  young  officer's 
shoulder. 

"  I  hate  to  think  of  this  sorrow  coming  to  you 
after  all  you've  been  through,  Maynard,"  he  said, 
"  and  I  would  say  I  hope  you  may  find  your  father 
better,  but  that  I  fear  more  than  I  can  hope.  At 
least  he  has  lived  to  know  how  worthily  you  have 
borne  the  name  and  how  proud  we  all  are  of  you." 

Ah,  if  the  father  could  but  hear  those  words, 
thought  poor  Maynard,  as  the  train  swiftly  bore 
him  eastward,  with  what  love  and  pride  would  he 
not  welcome  him  now,  his  only  boy. 

But  hours  before  the  still  swifter  trains  of  the 
Eastern  railways  whirled  him  along  past  Erie's 
wave  and  the  mirror-like  reaches  of  the  familiar 
old  canal,  the  father's  ears  were  deaf  to  all  earthly 
music,  and  Grace  was  weeping  over  the  wasted 
hand  still  clasped  in  hers.  Together,  side  by  side, 
as  chief  mourners,  walked  the  brother  and  sister 
behind  the  flag-draped  coffin  when  they  neared  the 
grave.  Convulsively  she  clung  to  Ronald,  sobbing 


A  QARRISON  TANGLE.  249 

and  unnerved,  as  the  comrades  of  the  Grand  Army 
fired  their  volleys  over  the  veteran's  bier.  Plain- 
tively she  hovered  about  him  during  the  days  he 
remained  there,  settling  the  affairs  of  his  father's 
humble  estate,  and  then  he  told  her  that  personal 
business  would  compel  him  to  leave  for  awhile,  but 
she  would  have  her  aunt,  and  Gertrude —  By  the 
way,  where  was  Gertrude  ?  She  had  not  been  to 
the  house,  he  had  not  seen  her  since  the  day  of  the 
funeral,  and  then  only  for  a  minute.  Grace  merely 
"didn't  know."  "She  came  much  less  frequently 
of  late,"  and  Eon  aid  vaguely  felt  that  it  was  better 
so,  yet  wondered  at  the  cause. 

And  now  at  last  the  sister  asked  no  question,  in- 
terposed no  objection  to  his  going.  Well  she  knew 
that  the  deep  sorrow  in  his  brave  young  face 
was  there  before  their  father's  death,  and  that 
much  of  it  was  her  doing.  Well  she  knew  that 
she  had  that  to  answer  for  which  he  never  yet 
suspected.  Well  she  knew  that,  should  he  learn 
that  in  her  overweening  sense  of  her  duty  in  the 
case,  she  had  blackened  the  good  name  of  Nathalie 
JBaird  in  her  revelation  to  Captain  Walters,  her 
brother's  love  would  go  as  had  the  old  faith  and 
trust.  He  was  master  now.  What  would  he  say 
when  the  whole  truth  came  to  light  ? 

Two  days  later  Maynard  was  at  the  store  of  a 


250  ^  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

Mr.  "Williams  in  a  charming  little  New  England 
village,  and  had  sent  in  to  the  office,  with  his  card, 
a  letter  of  introduction  from  Major  Barry.  The 
face  that  greeted  him  was  that  of  a  man  bowed 
with  care  and  sorrow,  but  it  lighted  with  frank 
kindliness  as  it  glanced  up  from  the  letter,  and  with 
a  cordial  hand-clasp  "Williams  bade  him  welcome. 

An  hour  later,  the  day's  work  done,  the  bowed 
form  of  the  broken  country  merchant  and  the  erect, 
athletic  figure  of  the  young  officer  strolled  away 
together  in  the  twilight  to  a  grove  "  where  Nath- 
alie used  to  walk,"  and  here  Maynard  told  his 
story.  Before  it  was  half  finished  his  one  auditor 
had  covered  his  grave  face  with  his  hands,  and, 
bowed  almost  double,  was  shedding  silent  tears. 

"  "When  first  Nathalie  came  to  Kussell  she  was 
the  picture  of  health  and  happiness,"  said  Maynard. 
"  One  night,  however,  after  she  had  been  there 
about  a  month  I  saw  a  prowler  under  her  window, 
a  tall,  heavily  built  stranger  in  civilian  dress.  He 
threw  pebbles  at  the  window  and  hoarsely  called 
to  her  *  Nathalie.'  She  was  frightened  and  fled. 
She  had  been  leaning  out  of  the  window  when  he 
first  appeared.  I  challenged  and  grabbed  him,  and 
he  knocked  me  flat  as  though  I  were  a  boy.  Only 
a  day  or  two  later,  a  man  strongly  resembling  this 
was  at  the  head  of  a  gang  of  street  loafers  that  took 


A  OAHR1SON  TANGLE.  251 

the  horses  of  a  patrol  of  which  I  was  in  command, 
and  dashed  out  on  the  street.  We  halted  them  and 
I  hurled  the  ringleader,  who  had  evidently  been 
drinking,  out  of  his  saddle.  He  was  stunned  and 
carried  into  a  doctor's  office.  Xo  one  knew  him 
except  as  '  Boston,'  and  all  agreed  that  he  had  been 
there  in  Cheyenne  but  a  short  time,  and  had  gam- 
bled away  what  money  he  had.  He  was  still  sense- 
less, and  as  the  doctor  opened  his  shirt  a  silk  bag 
was  lying  on  his  breast,  swung  around  his  neck  by 
a  silken  string.  On  it,  in  monogram,  were  worked 
two  letters,  as  I  could  painly  see,  an  H.  and  "W.  A 
few  days  later  this  same  man  waylaid  Miss  Baird 
away  out  on  the  prairie.  She  came  home  looking 
badly  unnerved  ;  yet  that  very  night,  late,  stole  out 
of  the  house  and  met  him,  and  probably  gave  him 
money.  Again  they  met,  though  she  would  no 
longer  venture  out  on  the  prairie.  He  dared  to 
come  into  the  post  after  the  garrison  had  taken  the 
field.  Again  he  demanded  money  and  got  it — all 
she  had  left.  Mrs.  Barry  told  me  that  Miss  Baird 
had  so  confessed  to  her.  All  this  had  been  seen  by 
ladies,  officers  and  soldiers,  and  people  declared  this 
rough-looking  man  to  be  her  lover,  and  her  good 
name  suffered.  Shortly  afterward,  early  one  morn- 
ing, an  Irish  saloon  employee  came  out  to  the  post, 
shouting  aloud  that  he  had  a  letter  for  the  young 


252  A  GARRISON"  TANGLE. 

lady  at  Major  Barry's,  and  she  came  down  to  him, 
and  a  little  later  walked  three  miles  to  town  where 
the  writer  of  the  letter  was  lying,  wounded  in  some 
fight  the  night  before,  and  he  again  demanded 
money  of  her,  and  she  sent  a  way  out  to  the  post  for 
twenty-five  dollars,  and  then  they  let  her  go.  Her 
health  had  suffered  seriously,  as  had  her  good  name. 
The  Barrys  begged  her  to  reveal  the  name  and 
whereabouts  of  this  stranger  that  they  might  put 
an  end  to  his  blackmailing,  but  she  implored  them 
to  do  nothing,  ask  for  nothing.  She  had  given  her 
word  not  to  betray  him.  But,  Mr.  Williams,  she 
implored  Mrs.  Barry  to  send  her  home,  here,  because 
this  was  the  one  place  that  fellow  dare  not  follow 
her.  There  can  be  but  one  explanation.  He  has 
committed  here  or  hereabouts  some  crime.  He  is 
a  fugitive  from  justice,  and  that  brave,  devoted 
girl,  for  old  time's  sake  and  the  love  she  bears  those 
who  were  good  to  her  in  by-gone  days,  is  shielding 
him  to  this  day  to  the  detriment  of  her  own  peace, 
happiness  and  reputation.  Mr.  "Williams,  will  you 
Ifft  the  burden  from  her  life  and  tell  me  who  this 
man  is  or  was  ?" 

''God  forgive  him!  God  pity  him!"  was  the 
heart-broken  answer.  "  It  is  my  poor  wife's  favorite 
— Nathalie's  own  cousin — my  handsome,  reckless 
boy,  Harry,"  and  the  poor  father  buried  his  face  in 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  253 

his  arms  as  though,  in  his  pain  and  misery,  he 
longed  to  hide  it  from  the  world.  It  was  some  time 
before  he  could  speak  with  sufficient  self  control, 
and  then  he  told  his  story. 

"  Hal  used  to  vow  when  he  was  a  big,  stalwart 
young  fellow  and  she  a  shy  little  schoolgirl  in  sun- 
bonnet  and  short  dresses,  that  Nathalie  and  he  were 
to  be  married  some  day.  He  was  always  fond  of 
her,  but  he  was  wild  as  a  hawk  and  invariably  in 
some  kind  of  trouble.  He  went  to  Boston  to  work, 
and — I  can't  tell  you  the  whole  story — drink, 
gambling,  appeals  to  me  for  money — more  drink, 
more  gambling,  more  appeals  for  money,  more 
trouble  through  pool  buying,  and  God  knows  what 
all.  Then  one  night  he  came  back  here  unex- 
pectedly, hunted  and  fearsome.  He  had  some  talk 
with  Nathalie,  for  she  came  in  crying.  Next  day 
he  was  gone.  Then  came  the  detectives.  He  had 
forged  my  name  and  his  employer's,  too.  He  was 
caught,  tried,  sentenced  to  prison,  and  after  a  year 
escaped.  That  was  the  last  of  him  until  now. 
Long:  ago  we  used  to  sav  Nathalie  was  the  only  one 

*•  •? 

who  could  ever  influence  him,  and  long  ago  she 
promised  his  poor  mother  ever  to  be  a  friend  to 
him,  and  now,  even  to  her,  my  son  has  been  a  curse, 
and  through  thick  and  thin  she  has  striven  to  pro- 
tect him.  My  God,  but  it's  hard — it's  hard !'? 


354  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

So  Maynard  was  right  in  his  theory,  after  all. 
All  the  homeward  way  he  pondered  over  what  he 
had  learned,  striving  to  settle  on  the  plan  by  which, 
without  bringing  further  misery  to  the  stricken 
father,  Nathalie's  name  might  be  cleared  at  Rus- 
sell — her  real  relation  to  this  outcast  and  scapegrace 
established.  If  it  were  only  possible  to  trace  the 
fellow,  and  bring  him  to  book.  There  would  be 
comfort  in  that,  he  thought,  for  his  heart  was  hot 
against  the  scoundrel  who  could  bring  such  shame 
to  the  loving  ones  at  home,  such  shame  and  torment 
and  peril  to  an  innocent  and  almost  defenseless  girl. 
Of  his  own  will,  the  father  had  given  Maynard  a 
written  statement  of  the  case  to  place  in  Barry's 
hands,  and  already  Maynard  had  despatched  it  to 
him,  while  taking  a  copy  to  be  used  with  Atherton 
at  Russell. 

Once  more  he  alighted  at  the  familiar  old  station 
and  made  his  way  to  the  cottage  that  was  now 
Grace's  home.  All  the  brother's  share  in  his  father's 
little  estate  he  had  deeded  to  her.  It  was  after  sun- 
set, and  the  soft  hush  of  twilight  had  fallen  on  the 
beautiful  valley.  Even  the  drowsy  hum  of  insects 
had  died  away,  and  only  by  the  mellow  tolling  of 
the  distant  church  bell,  and  the  soothing  plash  of 
the  river,  sweeping  over  its  rocky  bed,  was  the 
silence  broken.  The  townsfolk  seemed  mainly 


A  GARJU8OJT  TANGLE.  255 

gathered  at  the  depot  across  the  rapid  stream,  for 
the  broad,  shaded  streets,  soft  and  dusty,  lay  un- 
wheeled,  untrodden  before  him.  Over  on  the 
playground  a  knot  of  children  had  gathered  in 
absorbed  attention  about  some  elder,  for  the  glad 
young  voices  were  hushed.  The  long,  shady  walk 
before  him  was  deserted.  The  silver  shield  of  the 
growing  moon  was  already  gleaming  high  aloft. 
The  stars  began  to  twinkle  in  the  eastward  heaven. 
The  low  rumble  of  some  far-away  freight  train  was 
borne  for  a  moment  on  the  breathless  air,  then  all 
again  was  peace  and  silence.  "Wrapped  in  thought, 
Maynard  walked  slowly  toward  the  outskirts  of  the 
village,  seeing  no  one  whom  he  knew  since  crossing 
the  old  bridge  at  the  Mohawk  ;  turned  mechanically 
to  the  west  as  he  reached  a  cross  street  as  deeply 
shaded  as  that  by  which  he  came,  and  there  some- 
thing sprang  up  in  his  heart  that  gave  him  a  sudden 
feeling  of  hesitation,  if  not  embarrassment.  This 
was  the  street  on  which  stood  Gertrude  Bonner's 
home.  Bowered  among  rose  and  lilac  bushes,  ami 
pretty  trees,  it  lay  only  a  few  rods  beyond  that 
little  rise  in  front  of  him.  That  light,  twinkling 
even  now  through  the  foliage,  must  be  in  an  upper 
window  close  under  the  roof  tree.  For  an  instant 
be  wished  he  had  taken  the  other  side  of  the  street, 
then  scorned  the  thought  as  utterly  unworthy. 
Why  should  he  shrink  from  meeting  her  2 


256  -^  GARRIUON  TANGLE. 

Briskly  now  he  strode  on,  his  head  erect.  If,  as 
often  in  the  old  furlough  and  graduation  leave  days, 
she  should  be  at  the  gate,  or,  seated  on  the  piazza, 
watching  for  his  coming,  he  would  greet  her  cordi- 
ally, kindly  as  ever.  He  reached  the  crest  of  the 
little  rise.  He  could  now  see  the  dim  reach  of  the 
path  down  along  the  westward  slope,  bordered  by 
shade  trees  and  shrubbery,  and  there,  right  at  the 
gate,  still  some  hundred  feet  away,  yet  distinctly 
visible — there  was  the  same  pretty,  slender  form  he 
remembered  so  well,  clad  in  its  simple  white  gown. 
Doubtless  there  would  be  the  same  little  knot  of 
ribbon  at  the  throat,  the  same  bright  color  in  the 
rounded  cheeks,  the  same  joyous  smile  about  the 
rosy  lips  and  shining  eyes,  the  same  frank  welcome 
of  the  plump  little  hand.  He  had  wired  Grace  of 
his  coming,  so,  just  as  of  old,  here  was  Gertrude  on 
the  lookout.  Yet,  although  his  quick,  elastic  foot- 
steps brought  him  every  instant  nearer,  and  by  this 
time  should  be  audible,  she  did  not  stir,  she  did  not 
look  toward  him.  She  was  not  on  watch  for  him 
at  all,  for  her  head  was  droopingv  her  eyes  down- 
cast, her  back  was  toward  him,  and  all  her  thoughts 
were  riveted  on — another  man. 

Yes,  there  at  the  gate  on  which  as  children  they 
had  swung  together,  Ronald  and  Gertrude ;  there, 
talking  in  low,  rapturous  tones  was  a  youth,  whom 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  257 

Maynard  had  never  seen  before,  yet  recognized  at 
once  as  the  new  young  man,  who  in  March  had 
come  to  teach  the  village  school,  to  whose  humble 
salary  he  had  already  pledged  himself  to  subscribe, 
and  that  the  master  had  been  teaching  to  good 
effect,  and  something  far  more  sweet  and  thrilling 
than  grammar  and  rhetoric  was  apparent  at  a 
glance.  A  black  coat  sleeve  slid  about  the  slender 
white  waist,  when  Maynard  was  not  ten  yards  away, 
and  then,  all  blushes  and  confusion,  the  pair  started 
at  his  cheery  salutation. 

"  Why,  Gertrude,  I'm  just  in  time  to  tender  con- 
gratulations— which  I  do  with  all  my  heart,  Mr. 
Crowe,"  said  he,  cordially  extending  his  hand. 

It  was  taken  somewhat  gingerly.  The  happy 
man  could  not  at  once  frame  his  reply.  Gertrude 
rose  to  the  occasion. 

"  Well,  we've  been  wondering  when  you  would — 
condescend,  Ronald,  and  I •" 

"  Condescend,  Gertie  ?  Why,  this  is  the  first  I 
knew  of  it." 

"  It  is  ?  Why,  I  wrote  to  Grace  weeks  ago, 
while  she  was  with  you,  and  told  her  to  tell  you 
first  thing." 

And  Grace  had  got  that  letter,  for  he  saw  the  en- 
velope and  knew  the  superscription,  and  remembered 
how  suddenly  and  precipitately  she  had  left  the 


358  A  GARRISON  TANGLR. 

room.  Grace  had  got  that  letter  and  never  yet  had 
told  him.  What  could  have  been  her  object  ?  Why 
skould  she  have  been  silent?  She  kne\v  his  whole 
heart  was  wrapped  up  in  Nathalie  Baird,  and  that, 
except  in  a  kind  and  friendly  way,  Gertrude  was 
nothing  to  him.  Why  should  she  have  concealed 
this? 

And'  then,   all  on  a  sudden,   Nathalie's   words 
flashed  across  his  memory. 

"  Even  had  you  no  ties  of  your  own." 
His  steps  were  slower,  his  face  sadder  now  by 
far,  but  from  no  chagrin  at  thought  of  how  readily 
the  sweetheart  of  his  schoolboy  days  had  listened 
to  the  first  pleadings  of  another  love.  It  was  not 
that  he  had  lost  her.  It  was  that  the  old,  fond 
faith  in  the  sister  he  had  so  long  loved  and  almost 
as  long  revered  and  served,  was  shattered  once  and 
for  all.  And  she  who  stood  to  welcome  him  once 
more  to  the  little  home  that  had  been  his}  saw  it 
ere  be  spoke  a  single  word. 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  359 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

ONCE  more  was  the  old  post  of  Fort  Russell  left 
to  the  care  of  an  infantry  guard.  Once  more  were 
the  troopers  all  afield  and  rejoicing  in  the  vigorous, 
open-air  life  they  led  among  the  billowing  foothills, 
the  beautiful,  sheltered  valleys  and  the  sparkling 
streams  of  the  Big  Horn.  A  summer  camp  had 
been  established,  and  with  this  as  the  rendezvous 
and  rallying  point,  Atherton  was  keeping  his  stal- 
wart horsemen  scouting  far  and  near,  from  the 
Platte  at  Fetterman  to  the  Yellowstone  away  to 
the  north.  But  Indians  were  seldom  to  be  found. 
Sitting  Bull  and  his  starving  followers  were  beyond 
the  British  line,  closely  watched  by  the  frontier 
police.  Crazy  Horse  was  dead,  bayoneted  in  wild 
effort  to  escape  from  his  guard.  Gall,  Rain-in-the- 
Face,  and  other  notables  of  the  Sioux  nation,  had  fed 
fat  their  ancient  grudge  against  the  white  soldier 
when  Custer's  hapless  column  withered  away  before 
the  fierce  blaze  of  their  encircling  fire.  It  was  a 
holiday  summer  for  the  —  th,  a  veritable  picnic  in 
the  heart  of  the  glorious  country  over  which  for 


260  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

two  years  previous  they  rode  only  with  strong  bat- 
talions, with  scouts  thrown  out  in  front,  in  rear,  on 
every  side,  looking  any  instant  for  attack  in  force. 
Some  of  the  ladies  had  actually  broken  up  house- 
keeping at  the  fort  and  gone  those  rough  hundreds 
of  miles  in  army  ambulances  to  join  their  lords  in 
the  tented  field,  and  life  at  Russell  was  inane  and 
stupid. 

But  when  the  Indians  drew  away  and  sought  the 
shelter  of  the  agencies,  the  "  hustler  "  and  the  horse- 
thief  began  to  infest  the  land.  One  night  a  dozen 
of  Gregg's  best  horses — all  of  Sergeant  Donnelly's 
patrol — were  spirited  away  from  the  bivouac  at  the 
headwaters  of  the  Mini  Pusa,  and  driven,  as  the 
trail  showed,  away  toward  the  Sweet  water,  and 
there  it  was  all  split  up  and  lost  among  the  breaks 
and  ranges  of  the  cattle  kings  toward  Rawlins  and 
Rock  Springs.  Gregg  boiled  over  with  wrath 
when  three  days  later,  nearly  worn  out,  his  little 
squad  of  troopers  reached  the  main  camp  afoot. 
Ray's  troop  was  ordered  out  at  once  and  bidden  to 
raid  the  country  far  and  wide  until  he  found  out 
where  those  horses  were  gone,  and  Atherton  chose 
Ray  because  stockmen,  cattle  men,  scouts  and 
Indians  all  knew  him,  and  malefactor*  feared  him, 
and  with  Ray's  troop  went  Maynard,  detached  at 
his  own  earnest  request,  and  allowed  t®  fill  a 
temporary  vaoaney. 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

"  It  will  do  you  good,  Maynard,"  said  the  colonel 
kindly,  "and  give  you  some  valuable  experience. 
Yes.  I'm  glad  to  have  you  go." 

It  was  mid-July.  The  summer  heat  was  fierce, 
and  the  scorching  wind  blew  pitilessly  over  the 
desolate  sagebrush  deserts  beyond  the  Devil's  Gate, 
and  Ray  and  his  fifty  loj^al  blue  jackets  had  ridden 
long  marches  from  the  time  they  left  the  cool 
shades  of  the  Piney  and  the  Clear  Fork.  But  little 
cared  they,  those  Arizona-seasoned  soldiers,  for 
blistering  suns  or  stifling  alkali  dust.  They  were 
bent  on  the  recovery  of  those  horses,  no  matter 
though  the  thieves  had  three  days  and  nearly  a 
hundred  miles  the  start.  They  had  marched 
through  the  Sweetwater  valley  the  previous  year, 
and  had  seen  many  a  hard-looking  character  who 
longingly  eyed  their  clean-limbed  bays.  Ko  man. 
yet  had  ever  ventured  to  "  lift "  a  horse  from  Billy 
Ray's  picket,  and  it  tickled  the  vanity  of  his  troop^ 
ers  that  they  and  not  Gregg's  should  be  sent  to  re- 
cover Gregg's  horses.  The  trail,  though  nearly  five 
days  old  when  found,  was  still  distinct,  and  Maynard 
was  getting  many  an  hour  of  valuable  lessons,  for 
Ray  had  taken  more  than  a  liking  to  the  quiet,  sad- 
faced  young  fellow,  and  had  no  difficulty  at  all  in 
deeply  interesting  him  in  the  work.  Everybody  in 
the  regiment  seemed  to  know  by  this  time  that  he 


362  ^  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

had  returned  to  them  wearing  the  willow  for 
Nathalie  Baird.  There  had  been  some  days  of  woe- 
ful, wordy  battling  at  Russell,  for  the  feud  between 
Mrs.  Gregg  and  Mrs.  Turner  had  involved  others 
besides  their  lords,  and  Atherton  was  glad  of  the 
order  that  sent  his  whole  command  into  the 
mountains  and  foothills,  and  far  away  from  the 
snarls  and  tangles  that  seemed  to  have  taken  root 
at  the  fort.  Turner's  grim,  sad,  sallow  face  grew 
longer  than  ever,  and  even  more  than  ever  did  he 
seem  to  withdraw  from  the  society  of  his  fellows. 
He,  too,  was  thankful  to  get  away  from  the  post  and 
into  the  field.  Up  to  the  time  the  last  of  the  regi- 
ment marched  from  Russell,  no  trace  had  been  found 
of  the  runaway  burglars,  but  their  duped  accomplices, 
Michael  and  Bridget,  had  had  their  trial,  been  found 
guilty  of  complicity  at  least,  and  were  "  doing  time  " 
at  Laramie.  All  doubt  as  to  how  the  fire  started 
was  at  an  end.  The  generally  accepted  theory  was 
that  when  Mike  threw  away  the  match  with  which 
he  lighted  his  cigar,  it  dropped,  still  glowing,  in  the 
dust  close  to  the  basket  in  which  Bridget  kept  her 
kindling;  the  fierce  draught  through  cracks  and 
crevices  fanned  its  feeble  glow  into  a  blaze  as  the 
precious  pair  left  the  premises;  the  blaze  had 
reached  the  tinder ;  the  basket  of  chips  was  soon 
afire ;  the  flames  leaped  to  the  table,  the  dry,  rough- 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  263 

boarded  partition,  and  then  the  bracket  lamp  of 
brittle  glass,  filled  with  forbidden  kerosene ;  and 
that,  bursting,  deluged  the  wood \vork  with  liquid 
fire.  This  was  the  explanation  accepted  by  the 
duly  organized  board  of  survey.  Everything  con- 
nected with  the  excitement  of  the  springtide,  there 
fore,  had  been  practically  settled,  except  the 
perennial  squabbles  in  which  Mrs.  Turner  was  a 
factor,  and  the  question  of  Nathalie  Baird's  relation- 
ship to  the  lamented  "  Boston,"  who  had  disappeared 
as  though  from  the  face  of  the  earth. 

They  were  talking  of  that  very  fellow,  were  Ray 
and  Maynard,  the  day  they  forded  the  Sweet  water 
and  struck  out  for  the  southward  hills.  Maynard 
couldn't  understand,  he  said,  how  men  dared  run  off 
with  cavalry  horses,  because  the  U.  S.  brand  on 
the  shoulder  would  stamp  them  at  once  as  stolen 
property. 

"Why,  bless  your  heart,  Maynard,"  said  Ray, 
"  that's  no  bar.  Stealing  Government  property  is 
no  crime  in  Wyoming,  or  anywhere  else  on  the  fron- 
tier. Besides,  all  they've  got  to  do  is  to  touch  up 
that  brand  a  little,  and  the  II  S  becomes  O  8,  or  a 
toadstool,  or  some  other  equally  transparent  device. 
But  no  jury  ever  convicts  a  citizen  of  stealing  from 
Uncle  Sara,  out  in  these  parts  at  least.  Why,  it's 
a  feather  in  the  cap  of  those  fellows  to  run  off  our 


264  A  GARRISON  TANGLK 

stock,  and  the  gang  that  did  this  trick  were  no  nov- 
ices, nor  were  they  few  in  number." 

And  that  night  proved  the  truth  of  Kay's  con- 
jecture. 

Just  before  sunset,  away  in  among  the  jagged 
hills  and  ravines  that  hem  the  Sweet  water  valley  on 
the  south,  the  dust-begrimed  troop  halted  and  dis- 
mounted, while  Kay  .held  brief  converse  with  the 
owners  of  a  little  "shack,"  one. of  whom  the  captain 
knew.  He  had  served  his  time  in  the  old  regiment, 
and,  in  common  with  all  the  other  "  old  hands," 
would  do  almost  anything  for  Ray ;  but  now  his 
tongue  was  tied.  Oh,  he  had  seen  nothing,  heard 
nothing.  No  horse  thieves  had  been  thereabouts. 
His  partner  was  sure  of  all  these  points  also,  and 
even  if  they  had  seen  or  heard,  it  would  be  signing 
their  own  death  warrants  to  tell.  No,  neither  man 
could  give  any  information. 

But  Ray's  dark  eyes  never  left  the  ex-soldier's 
face.  He  read  a  secret  there,  and  was  watching  his 
opportunity.  It  came  quickly,  and  while  the  part- 
ner was  taking  a  long,  long  pull  at  Ray's  proffered 
flask. 

"  There's  a  camp  of  'em  right  in  on  the  Rawlins 
trail,  somewhere  about  five  miles  ahead.  Seven  or 
eight  men  and  about  a  dozen  horses — some  of  yours, 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  265 

sure,"  whispered  the  veteran,  and  the  captain  nodded 
expressively. 

At  nine  o'clock,  despite  the  long  day's  march, 
Kay's  men  swung  readily  into  saddle  again,  and 
away  they  went,  every  trooper  guessing  that  the 
quarry  was  somewhere  among  those  heights  to  the 
south,  and  wondering  were  they  like  their  old-time 
foemen,  the  Indians — die-hards  to  a  man.  The  moon 
came  floating  into  the  starry  sky  from  behind  the 
screen  of  old  Laramie  peak,  and  the  wooded  range 
that  tumbled  across  the  eastward  horizon.  The 
night  wind  went  whispering  over  the  hills  and  sift- 
ing the  dust-cloud  that  hovered  above  the  column, 
over  the  stunted  sagebrush,  and  the  jack-rabbits 
trembled  and  shuddered  in  their  burrows  at  the 
dull,  muffled  tread  of  those  two  hundred  hoofs. 
Two  miles  away  from  the  "shack"  the  trail  grew 
steep  and  tortuous,  and  Kay  bade  Maynard  follow 
slowly  with  the  command,  while  he,  with  a  chosen 
sergeant,  pushed  ahead  in  the  dim,  fairy  light,  and 
was  speedily  lost  to  view. 

Another  mile  was  passed  without  event.  They 
were  riding  up  beside  and  along  the  bed  of  a  stream 
that  the  melting  snows  of  the  spring  would  send 
tumbling  in  muddy  torrent  to  the  valley,  but  now 
the  channel  was  dry  as  the  bordering  bluffs.  Not 
a  sound  had  been  heard  from  the  advance,  yet  May- 


266 

nard  knew  they  must  be  nearing  the  alleged  camp, 
and  he  wondered  how  his  captain  would  settle  mat- 
ters with  its  desperado  occupants.  Silent  as  so 
many  specters,  his  men  came  filing  along  in  his 
tracks.  There  were  no  scabbards  to  rattle,  no  jing- 
ling bit  and  chain,  no  clank  of  carbine  against 
canteen.  Long  years  of  Indian  scouting  had  taught 
these  veterans  what  to  carry  and  how  to  carry  it, 
so  as  to  give  least  warning  of  their  movements. 
Only  the  muffled  thud  of  horse  hoofs  told  oacasion- 
ally  of  the  onward  passage  of  a  force  of  cavalry. 
At  steady  walk  they  pressed  along  until  Maynard's 
watch  said  it  was  a  quarter-past  ten,  and  they  had 
traversed  nearly  five  miles,  and  then  a  shadowy 
form,  horse  and  man,  loomed  up  under  the  shoulder 
of  bluff  in  front,  and  a  warning  hand  was  raised. 

"We're  onto  them,  sir,"  whispered  Sergeant 
Burke,  as  Maynard  reined  up  beside  him  and  sig- 
naled to  the  column  to  halt.  "  They're  having  a 
regular  jamboree  right  ahead  about  four  hundred 
yards.  The  captain  says  to  come  forward  slowly, 
and  still  as  possible." 

The  word  was  whispered  down  the  dusty  column. 
Again  the  weary  horses  started  and  the  noiseless 
march  began.  Presently  there  came  from  the  dis 
tant  front  "a  sound  of  revelry  by  night "  indeed,  at 
which  the  sergeant  grinned  sympathetically.  8ome 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  20? 

where  ahead  there  was  a  jovial  gathering,  a  flicker 
ing  light,  as  though  from  a  campfire,  a  bacchanalian 
chorus,  punctuated  by  occasional  yells,  and  when 
the  foremost  troopers  reached  and  peered  around 
an  elbow  in  tLe  winding  ravine,  they  saw  a  sight 
that  made  their  mouths  water.  Singing,  smoking, 
rollicking  about  a  blazing  fire,  filling  their  cups  at 
a  little  keg,  and  tossing  their  contents,  undiluted, 
down  their  seasoned  gullets,  a  full  score  of  stalwart 
fellows  were  having  a  carouse  such  as  many  of 
Kay's  devoted  followers  would  have  given  a  month's 
pay  to  join  for  even  a  minute.  Two  white  topped 
wagons  were  halted  in  a  little  glade ;  mules  and 
horses  were  tethered  all  around,  and  so  absorbed 
was  the  entire  camp  in  its  merriment  that  even  the 
dogs  had  not  yet  sniffed  the  coming  foe. 

"  Box  Elder  Spring,"  whispered  Sergeant  Burke 
to  the  young  lieutenant,  "  and  they  must  have  ren- 
dezvoused here  from  all  over  "West  Wyoming." 

And  then,  riding  cautiously  to  them,  an  amused 
grin  on  his  handsome  face,  his  white  teeth  gleaming 
in  the  moonlight,  came  Captain  Ray. 

"  Maynard,  old  boy,  we're  in  big  luck.  If  all  the 
horsethieves  from  Laramie  to  Lander,  from  Rawlins 
to  Rawhide  Butte,  ain't  right  here  in  caucus  as- 
sembled, may  I  never  straddle  a  Kentucky-bred 
horse  again  as  long  as  I  live.  Gregg's  quadruped* 


268  A  GARRISON' 

are  all  on  t'other  side  of  camp.  We'll  corral  them 
first,  then  you  and  I'll  pay  these  gentlemen  a  social 
call.  We  can't  do  anything  to  them,  you  know, 
because  military  interference  isn't  tolerated  in  the 
territories  except  in  case  of  Indians.  Like  as  not 
we'd  stir  up  some  sheriff  among  these  fellows  and 
he'd  spring  the  law  on  us.  We're  no  posse  comitatus, 
but  vender's  our  horses  all  the  same.  Just  dis- 
mount, you  men,  till  the  moon  gets  behind  that 
cloud,"  he  continued ;  at  which  the  foremost  troopers 
noiselessly  slipped  out  of  saddle,  and  all  the  long 
column  followed  suit. 

Ten  minutes  later,  as  noiselessly  and  circling  well 
away  from  the  boisterous  camp,  the  troop  stole 
away  from  the  shadowy  canon  and,  favored  by  the 
darkening  clouds,  rode  easily  around  to  the  southern 
side.  Here  a  dozen  men  dismounted  and,  following 
Ray  and  Maynard,  crept  softly  forward,  and,  speak- 
ing in  low,  reassuring  tones  to  the  nearest  horses  of 
the  little  herd,  went  swiftly  from  one  to  the  other. 
Each  one  recognized  as  a  government  "mount," 
was  quickly  secured  by  a  lariat  loosely  knotted 
about  the  neck,  and  the  transfer  of  what  the  captain 
called  the  "  stawk "  back  to  the  care  of  their  old 
masters  was  well  nigh  complete  when  out  peeped 
the  moon  again.  A  mule  set  up  an  unearthly  bray, 
a  dog  barked  furiously,  and  some  straggler  from 


A  GARRISON  TANQLB.  262 

the  band  of  revelers  gave  one  wild  yell  of  warning, 
instantly  followed  by  a  cry,  "  Cavalry,  by  God  1 
Look  out,  fellers !" 

There  was  a  rush  for  the  horses,  a  volley  of  oaths 
and  execrations,  a  scramble  for  saddles,  and  a  show 
of  six-shooters,  but  above  all  the  uproar  one  voice, 
furious  and  merciless,  rose  dominant. 

"  Curse  your  traitor  hide !  This  is  your  doing, 
Boston."  Then  followed  a  shot,  a  shriek  for  help, 
another  shot,  and  then,  pistol  in  hand,  Ray  dashed 
forward  into  the  thick  of  the  throng. 

"  Stop  this !"  he  commanded.  "  Stop,  or  by  God, 
we'll  take  a  hand.  Bring  up  the  troop,  Maynard. 
Grab  that  lunatic,  some  of  you." 

But  with  a  spring  like  a  cat  the  "  lunatic,"  hia 
pistol  still  smoking,  threw  himself  astride  a  wiry 
cow  pony,  and  dashed  away  into  the  darkness. 
Some  of  his  gang  ran  for  their  horses  and  followed 
suit.  Others,  stupefied,  stood  gazing  up  at  Ray. 
Others  still  were  bending  over  a  groaning,  pros- 
trate form.  The  firelight  fell  on  the  pallid,  dis- 
torted face,  and  Maynard  knew  it  at  a  glance. 
Here  at  last  was  Nathalie's  tormentor.  Here,  shot 
to  death,  lay  "  Boston." 

A  word  from  Ray  had  sent  a  dozen  troopers  in 
pursuit  of  the  murderer.  Another  word,  and  those 
who  remained,  stunned  and  half  sobered,  were  sur- 


270  4  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

rounded  and  held  by  another  squad  of  blue-shirted 
troopers.  Rough,  yet  tender  hands  bore  the  sink- 
ing man  closer  to  the  fire  and  gave  him  stimulant. 
He  gazed  miserably  up  one  moment,  searching 
their  faces  as  though  in  hope  of  some  word  of  en- 
couragement, and  his  eyes  met  Maynard's.  He 
knew  him  instantly,  and  his  face,  beading  now 
with  the  sweat  of  agony,  took  on  an  imploring 
look.  He  strove  to  speak,  and  one  of  his  fellows 
turned  and  said : 

"He  want's  to  say  something  to  you  gentle- 
men." 

Then,  dismounting,  Ray  and  Maynard  knelt  be- 
side the  dying  man. 

"  They've  killed  me,"  he  almost  sobbed.  "  They 
knifed  me  at  Cheyenne,  months  ago,  because  I  swore 
I'd  have  no  part  in  that  robbery.  I've  been  a  curse 
to  all  of  my  people,  but  I  wasn't  that  mean.  I  was 
mean  enough  though  to  borrow — every  cent — that 
poor  girl  had — at  Russell.  She  was  my  cousin. 
She  did  all  she  could  to  save  me — to  make  a  man  of 
me —  She  even  borrowed  money — to  lend  to  me, 
but  I've  saved  over  a  hundred — I'd  have  paid  it  all 
if  God  had — let  me  live.  It's — all  in  that  silk  bag 
— round  my  neck.  Lieutenant,  you're  a  square  man 
— I'm  sorry  I  ever — hurt  you,  but  I  had  to,  or  get 
caught — under  her  window.  I  wouldn't  bring  harm 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  371 

to  her — for  the  world.  Shake  hands  on  it,  lieu- 
tenant, and  promise  me  you'll  give  it  to  her — that 
money —  It's — all  I've  got.  Shake." 

And  with  his  twitching  hand  in  the  firm  grasp  of 
the  young  soldier,  Boston  died. 

Another  week,  and  with  their  recaptured  horses 
Ray  and  Maynard  were  again  on  duty  with  the 
regiment  and  under  orders  for  home,  but  before 
the  move  began  there  came  tidings  that  involved  a 
change  in  the  personnel  of  the  old  regiment,  and 
one  it  could  not  welcome.  Barry  received  his  pro- 
motion to  a  lieutenant-colonelcy,  and  a  new  number 
gleamed  in  silver  over  the  crossed  sabers  of  his 
forage-cap.  It  was  hard  to  lose  this  true-hearted, 
courteous  soldier  and  gentleman  from  the  — th. 
It  was  hard  to  think  that  Mrs.  Barry  would  not 
again  return  to  them,  for,  one  and  all,  men  and 
women  both,  they  knew  her  influence  for  good,  and 
deplored  their  loss.  There  were  quite  a  number, 
therefore,  who  received  the  further  news  that  came 
with  something  akin  to  gratification :  the  other 
regiment  would  not  get  the  Barrys  after  all,  for 
Mrs.  Barry's  health  would  not  admit  of  her  going 
to  the  extreme  north,  and  knowing  this,  and  need- 
ing a  new  inspector-general  just  then,  a  dis- 
tinguished division  commander  asked  that  the 
recently  promoted  lieutenant-colonel  be  assigned 


272  ^  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

to  him  for  staff  duty,  and  the  war  secretary  was 
pleased  to  say  "Aye."  The  summer  at  Sea  Girt 
had  been  of  benefit  to  both  Mrs.  Barry  and  Na- 
thalie, especially  the  latter,  who  was  beginning  to 
look  wondrously  well  again,  wrote  Mrs.  Barry,  and 
shyly,  sweetly  happy.  "  You  must  come  and  see 
for  yourself,  Mr.  Ronald  Maynard,"  she  wrote,  and 
that  was  something  the  bronzed  and  wiry  warrior 
meant  to  do  the  moment  the  summer's  work  was 
done,  and  he  could  get  the  longed-for  leave  of 
absence. 

Very  sad  and  touching,  but  grateful,  were  the 
letters  that  came  to  him  from  the  sorrowing  house- 
hold— Henry  Williams'  kindred,  in  the  placid  New 
England  village ;  yet  even  those  letters  breathed 
something  like  relief  from  along-threatened  shame. 
It  was  as  though  the  final  taking  off  of  that  reck- 
less, sin-stained  wanderer  had  lifted  from  their 
hearts  a  load  of  anxiety  and  dread. 

Then  there  were  Grace's  letters,  so  changed  from 
all  the  old  possessive,  advisory,  not  to  say  manda- 
tory, missives  that  used  to  come  to  him.  Grace  felt 
her  fall  from  grace  far  more  keenly  than  her  stub- 
born pride  would  ever  let  her  show.  Grace  main- 
tained, to  herself  at  least,  that  her  course  was  justi- 
fied by  the  circumstances,  and  would  ultimately 
have  been  justified  in  Ronald's  eyes,  but  for 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  273 

Gertrude's  utterly  unlocked  for  and  incom- 
prehensible defection.  Had  she  but  remained 
faithful  to  her  schoolgirl  fondness  for  Eonald, 
he  would  have  been  in  honor  bound,  and,  over 
the  resultant  dovecote  would  Grace  have  hovered, 
its  self-appointed,  self-sufficient  guardian  angel. 
But  with  Gertrude  the  first  to  bolt  there  was  an 
end  to  any  semblance  of  obligation  on  Ronald's 
part. 

She  had  faced  him  unflinchingly  when  at  last 
brought  to  bay  and  told  that  she  had  concealed  from 
him  the  fact  of  Gertrude's  engagement.  She  admit- 
ted it  and  declared  that  it  was  her  wrath  at  Gertrude 
that  prompted  it.  She  felt  that,  purely  out  of  pique 
because  of  Ronald's  indifference,  the  girl  had  tempo- 
rarily taken  up  with  another  admirer,  but  that  it  was 
nothing  more  than  a  fancy  from  which  Grace  could 
wean  her  when  one  again  she  resumed  her  sway  at 
home.  But  Grace  had  been  away  too  long.  The 
young  man  had  come  to  stay,  and  another  of  her 
former  vassals  had  declared  independence. 

And  so,  with  both  her  former  subjects  in  revolt, 
Grace's  home  life  seemed  grown  even  narrower, 
sadder  than  ever.  With  her  loved  father  gone,  she 
had  little  to  do  but  brood  over  the  past  and  bewail 
the  present.  People,  good,  church-going  neighbors, 
began  to  speak  of  her  as  embittered  and  morbid, 


274  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

and  to  upbraid  her,  in  all  kindliness  of  spirit,  because 
she  became  lax  in  attendance  at  prayer  meetings 
and  the  like,  and?all  the  time  the  poor  woman  was  ask- 
ing herself  what  would  Ronald  say  if  he  ever  learned 
that  she  had  actually  joined  forces  with  that  empty- 
headed,  frivolous  creature  at  Fort  Russell  in  war 
against  the  good  name  of  Nathalie  Baird.  Anger 
blazed  in  his  eyes  when  he  wrung  from  her  the  ad- 
mission that  she  had  told  Nathalie  Baird  that  he 
was  virtually  engaged  to  Gertrude  Bonner,  but  it 
was  anger  too  deep  for  words.  He  would  have  no 
scene  under  the  roof  that  so  long  and  until  so  recent 
ly  had  sheltered  his  father's  patient  spirit,  but  he 
turned  from  her  in  a  silence  that  told  her  far  more 
thin  any  outburst  of  reproaches  how  utterly  in  hig 
estimation  she  had  fallen. 

He  never  even  wrote  to  her  the  particulars  of 
Williams'  death.  He  bundled  a  newspaper  into  a 
wrapper,  and  sent  it  without  comment  of  any  kind, 
and  she  read  it,  little  caring  what  confession  he  had 
made  to  Ray  and  Maynard.  She  heard  Gertrude's 
clear  young  voice  carroling  like  the  lark  in  the  joy 
of  her  love,  day  after  day,  and  the  contrast  of  her 
own  gloom  and  desolation  weighed  more  and  more 
heavily  upon  her.  As  the  summer  waned  and  the 
boughs  of  the  fruit  trees  began  to  droop  with  the 
weight  of  their  ripening  load,  she  retired  more  and 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  275 

more  from  public  view,  rarely  appearing  as  of  old 
on  the  village  street,  or  speaking  masterfully  at  the 
church  societies.  She  was  aging  fast  and  growing 
ill,  and  at  last  it  was  her  aunt  who  wrote  and  bade 
Ronald  not  to  be  slow  in  coming  to  them. 

He  showed  the  letter  to  Atherton,  with  an  awed 
look  in  his  grave  young  face.  Sister  Grace  had 
ever  seemed  so  strong,  so  far  removed  from  human 
ills  or  frailties,  but  there  could  be  no  mistaking  the 
nature  of  the  summons. 

"  Better  take  a  small  escort  and  ride  for  Rock 
Springs,  Maynard  ;  wiring  from  Fetterman  for  your 
leave,"  said  the  colonel,  and  Maynard  did  so.  In 
ten  days  he  was  home,  shocked  to  see  how  aged  and 
ill  his  sister  looked,  and  feeling  now  a  sense  of  keen 
sorrow  and  remorse  that  he  had  shown  such  deep 
offense  at  her  errors.  After  all,  had  she  not  devoted 
years  and  years  to  him  ?  had  she  not  been  a  loving 
and  faithful  sister  ?  He  knelt  by  her  with  sorrow- 
ing heart  and  shining  eyes,  yet  when  he  would  have 
told  her  of  his  regret,  she  checked  him. 

"  Ronald,"  she  whispered,  "  I  want  to  see  her.  I 
have  a  reason.  I  want  her  forgiveness." 

"  For  what,  Grace  ?" 

"  For  something  I  want  you  never  to  know  until 
time  and  Nathalie  have  taught  you  to  forgive  me 
anything." 


27(J  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

Late  one  lovely  October  afternoon  Mrs.  Barry 
reclined  on  her  couch  before  the  cheery  blaze  of  a 
bright  wood-fire  in  their  cozy  flat,  and  near  her  sat 
Ronald  Maynard,  older,  sterner,  graver  looking  than 
in  the  stormy  times  at  Russell,  yet  wonderfully  im- 
proved by  the  vigorous  life  in  the  sun  and  the  wind 
of  the  wide  northwest.  His  brave  young  eyes  were 
shining  with  new  hope  and  eagerness,  however. 
His  heart  was  throbbing  in  his  breast,  for  what  Mrs. 
Barry  had  to  say  thrilled  him. 

"  She  would  never  have  said  no,  then,  Ronald, 
had  she  not  believed  you  were  in  honor  bound  to 
another  girl — even  though  you  might  have  ceased 
to  love  her ;  and  now  that  she  knows  the  truth,  and 
now  that  people  at  Russell  have  written  so  fondly 
and  sweetly  to  her  since  they  learned  of  Williams' 
death,  and  all  he  said  to  you  and  to  Captain  Ray, 
she's  another  girl.  All  her  old  joyous  manner  has 
returned.  Just  wait  till  you —  Mercy !  There  she 
comes  now,  and  it  isn't  time  for  an  hour  yet.  Quick ! 
Go  into  the  dinning-room.  Then,  after  she  has 
come  in,  let  yourself  into  the  hall  andfgo  straight 
through  into  the  parlor,  and  wait  there  till  I  call 
you.  It  wouldn't  be  fair  to  surprise  her  this  way. 
She  thinks  you  still  in  "Wyoming." 

Promptly  he  obeyed.  The  portiere  was  still 
slowly  waving  behind  him  when  her  quick,  light 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  $77 

footstep  was  heard  as  she  hurriedly  entered.  He 
could  not  resist  stopping  one  instant  to  hear  the 
sweet  tones  of  the  voice  he  loved,  but  Mrs.  Barry 
spoke  first. 

"  Why,  Priscilla  mine,  what  brings  you  back  so 
soon  ?  I  thought  you  were  to  go " 

"  Oh,  I  was,  but  just  down  the  avenue  I  met  our 
postman,  and  he  smiled  and  said  he  had  letters — 
and  I  opened  mine —  It  said—  It  was  from  Mrs. 
Freeman —  It  told  me —  Oh,  let  me  light  your  lamp 
and  then  you  read  it." 

"  But  I'd  rather  hear  it  at  once,  Nat.  It  must 
have  been  something  important  to  bring  you  back 
so  soon." 

"  It  said — It's  about — "  But  even  now  she  could 
not  trust  herself  to  speak  his  name.  Her  eyes 
were  dilating,  her  soft  cheeks  flushed.  "  Mrs. 
Barry,"  she  impulsively  asked,  "is  it  so?  Did 
you  know  his  sister  was  very  ill — and  he'd  been 
sent  for  ?'* 

"  Not  until  very  lately,  Nat." 

Without  ever  throwing  off  her  hat  and  gloves, 
the  girl  was  again  on  her  knees,  and  gazing  seareh- 
ingly  into  the  gentle  face  on  the  pillow. 

"  Who  wrote  2"  she  asked. 

*  He  did  —  to  Major  Barry.  I  can't  call  him 
colonel  yet.  You  know  he  had  written  to  you  b«- 


378  -A-  GARRISON  TANQLB. 

fore,  and  your  turn,  by  your  own  directions,  only 
comes " 

"  He  only  wrote  when  he  sent  poor  Harry's  old 
silk  bag  with  aunty's  picture  and — that  hateful 
money.  Where  did  he  write  from  ?" 

"  From  her  home.     She  is  very  ill." 

"  Then  he  won't  be  coming  here  ?"  And  the  blue 
eyes  were  glancing  pleadingly  one  minute,  then 
hiding  behind  their  snowy  lids  the  next. 

"  I  don't  see  how  he  can  be — coming,  Nat." 

The  bright  color  faded  from  the  rounded  cheeks 
and  left  them  piteously  white. 

"  He  has  been  lovel\r  to  you,  Nathalie,"  murmured 
her  friend,  caressing  now  the  restless  little  hand  as 
it  found  its  way  into  hers.  "  If  he  should  want 
you  to  do  something  for  him — who  risked  his  life 
to  save  yours — who  never  rested  until  he  had  res- 
cued your  good  name,  too — would  you  do  it?" 

But  here  the  portiere  began  violent  and  unac- 
countable undulations.  Nathalie's  head  was  bowed 
and  she  couldn't  see.  Mrs.  Barry's  eyes  were 
blinded  and  she  wouldn't  see. 

"What  could  he  ask  of  me  now  —  after — " 
faltered  the  girl. 

"  After  you  refused  him  ?"  said  Mrs.  Barry,  a 
teasing  little  smile  playing  about  her  lips.  "  It 


A  GARRISON  TANGLE.  379 

isn't  much — provided  I  go  too—     It's  to  go  to  see 
his  sister." 

Nathalie  sprang  to  her  feet.  "  I  don't  believe — " 
she  began  indignantly.  "  You  never  were  unkind 
to  me  before — Mrs.  Barry."  The  words  came  in  a 
big  sob.  The  tears  came  raining  from  her  bright 
blue  eyes.  Mrs.  Barry's  arms  were  outstretched — 
her  heart  was  filled  with  dismay  and  compassion  in 
aa  instant. 

l*  Nathalie,  Nathalie,  1  shouldn't  have  teased !  I 
ictfsuukind.  I  never  knew  it  meant  so  much.  For- 
give m«a,  dear  one.  There,  there,  don't  cry.  Run 
into  the  parlor.  You'll  iind  the  letter  there  some- 
where— or  something  that'll  tell  you  all  you  want 
to  know." 

And  as  the  girl,  half  sobbing  still,  hastened  from 
the  room,  in  came  Maynard,  all  dismay. 

"  The  door  was  locked  !  I  couldn't  get  through ! 
I  had  to  stay.  I  had  to  hear.  "Why,  didn't  you  see 
the portibre  shaking?" 

"  Never  mind,"  smiled  Mrs.  Barry.  "  She's  past 
ray  comforting.  Go  quickly  and  help  her  find  that 
letter  or  that — something." 

Nathalie  had  searched  the  desk  and  mantel.  She 
was  fumbling  for  the  button  of  the  electric  light  as 
he  reached  the  arched  doorway.  The  heavy  curtains 
fell  behind  him  as  the  bright,  sudden  glare  responded 


280  A  GARRISON  TANGLE. 

to  her  touch,  and  when  she  turned  to  renew  the 
hurried  search  she  saw  him,  barely  arm's  length 
away — no !  it  could  not  have  been  that  far,  for 
despite  her  struggles,  her  furious  blushes,  her 
fluttering  heart  and  panting  breath,  the  little  cry — 
half  fright,  half  joy,  with  which  she  greeted  him— 
died  on  her  lips — and  his. 


THE  END. 


A     000129542     7 


